Three Months of Forever
by vaaaal
Summary: Madison, a newcomer to Forks, meets Paul and is thrust into his life when he imprints. But, Madison has a secret. Can Paul survive what's happening to her?
1. Prologue

_I don't own anything to do with Twilight._

Three Months of Forever

Preface:

I didn't think I would find her, not like this anyways. Sure, I had dreamed of this moment ever since becoming what I am. But never did I think I would have to say goodbye so soon. I had tried to give her everything, everything except the thing she needed the most. If only I had seen...If only I had _known._ Why? Why did she keep it from me? Doesn't she know how much I love her? I had never believed in god, not since phasing for the first time. But if there was something up there, somewhere...

_Please,_ I begged, _Just let her live._

Nobody answered.


	2. Chapter 1

**_I don't own anything to do with Twilight.  
><em>so I was hit pretty heavily with a plot bunny, and I decided to run with it.  
>this is my story, and i love you for reading it (:<strong>

* * *

><p>Chapter 1:<p>

three months earlier

I struggled to sit up. I struggled with my shirt, I struggled with my pants. All I did was struggle. I was sick of it. I was sick of a lot of things, but most of all I was sick of being sick.

"Mom!" I called out weakly.

Almost immediately I heard the rush of hurried footsteps. She didn't answer though. We had long since learned that excessive noise only worsened my ever present headache. She opened the door slowly, walking in with her brave face.

My heart broke a little more as I thought about what I was doing to her. My mother was only 36, but looked so much older. Wrinkles lined her face and gray hair littered her head where there should be none.

"Shh." Was all she said. She approached me slowly, like I would break. Truthfully, I wasn't sure if I _would_ break or not, but she didn't need to know that.

Her soft hands supported my back and I struggled, once again, with walking to the bathroom. I went to shut the door, giving myself some of the only privacy I was still allowed, and saw my mother's eyes. They were filled with tears, and she looked so lost. I had done that.

I shut the door more forcibly then I intended to. I had seen enough. I turned to my enemy: the mirror. Long since gone was the beautiful girl I used to see myself as. Lifeless eyes started back at me. The green orbs filled with tears as I examined myself further. My once rich, long brown hair was cropped to just above my shoulder. The dull color matched my lifeless eyes.

What upset me most was my skin. I had once been tan. Now I was disgustingly pale. All muscle that was once on my body had long since left, giving me a pinched, almost emaciated stature.

My reflection made me sick. I wished I looked healthier, if not for my sake, then for my mother's. She didn't deserve this.

"Honey?" She called out now. I winced. Even though her voice had been soft, quiet, the sound sent off sharp pains in the back of my head. "Baby, you need to answer me." She said firmly.

Since I had been diagnosed, my mother had become parent of the year. Of course, it wasn't her fault. I didn't blame her. I didn't even resent her.

All the doctors I had been to encouraged her mother-hawk tendencies. My last, Dr. Bradshaw, had gone as far as to recommend she know where I am at all times, and to establish verbal contact if I couldn't be seen. She was doing that now, always following the doctor's orders, to a key.

"I'm fine." I whispered loudly. Talking hurt my head. Everything hurt my head.

"A headache?" My mother asked through the door. Her worried tone made me feel horrible. I was the reason my mother had no life. God only knows the last time she was on a date.

"It'll pass. It happens every time I wake up." I reminded her, "It'll pass." I looked at my reflection again and spoke to myself, "It has to pass."

~~OO~~

I remembered the first day of first grade. Weird, right? I'm sure plenty of people have long since forgotten their first days. But not me. It was the best and worst day of my life.

It had started off fine, they always do. My mother and I paraded around the house in her high-heeled shoes, pretending to be royalty.

"Now, Princess Madison," She had said, "to the chariot for the first day of princess school!" My seven year old self had burst into giggles as we made our way to the car.

If I concentrate hard, really hard, I can still smell the perfume we both wore. It wasn't flowery like most, but instead it smelt of citrus; like oranges in the spring. I suspect it was that scent that attracted the bee to us.

Sometimes, when I'm alone, I'll wonder about what would have happened to me had we not worn that perfume. Would I have made it to school? Probably. Would I have made it through the week? Debatable. Would I have made it to my eight birthday? I have no idea.

I have no idea because we did wear the perfume. We did smell like citrus, and the bee did sting me. I went into anaphylactic shock minutes later, and my mother rushed me to the hospital.

It was there they discovered not only the bee sting, but the disease eating away at me.

The look on my mother's face as the doctor explained what was happening to me, what would eventually happen to me, is something that will haunt me forever. The _look_ on her face... no words can possibly describe it.

I was in surgery three days later.

It might be weird to think about that day as the best and worst day of my life...but I do. It was the day I had the most fun with my mother that I can remember. And it was the day that I was forced to watch all the happiness leak out of her.

~~OO~~

"Do you think a 'Spoons' is right next to it?" I laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

My mom took the bait, smiling brightly. "As long as we aren't living in Sporks, I'd say we're fine."

I smiled, looking out the window, trying to take in as much as Eureka, South Dakota as possible.

The silence engulfed us once again. Saying goodbye was never easy, but it was something we had both been doing for a while now.

My mother was something called an optimist. No matter how hopeless my disease seemed, my mother was convinced there was an answer, a cure. When the symptoms came back last month, my mother poured her soul into the hospital, me, and my disease.

My mother insisted we should move to Eureka half a year ago. Before that, it was Fabens, Texas, and before that, was Macon, Mississippi. Before that? I had long since lost count. We never ended up staying in more then one place for a very long time, anyway.

Eureka had been different, though. It was the first town I had lived in completely symptom free. At least, for a little while. My mom was as watchful as ever though. She had only started allowing me out of the house unsupervised. But like I said, I don't blame her. If I was a parent...well, I would probably do everything in my power to keep them alive.

My mother's power was never in question, but there were greater things at work here.

Dr. Bradshaw, the doctor I had been seeing in Eureka, was something called a pessimist. I swear, he could look outside on the most beautiful day of the year, and declare it would rain. It was he that kept me level-headed. "No symptoms aren't necessarily a good thing." He would keep reminding me. And I knew.

Nobody ever thinks I know, but I do. I really do. I have access to a computer, I know the percentage of survival. I know the risks, the...the factors of this disease. And I know where I stand.

I, Madison, am something called a realist. I've been one since the second day of first grade, the day I over heard my very first doctor tell my mother what I had. I had been one since I snuck out of my hospital room and seen my mother throw herself on the floor and weep, and weep, and weep. I'll keep being one, too.

This move to Forks, Washington, of all places, was pointless. The realist part of me knew that, the pessimistic side of Dr. Bradshaw knew that. It was just my mother who didn't. Or, maybe she did? I'll never ask.

The day before our house was packed and sold, Dr. Bradshaw had asked to speak to me privately.

"Madison, the symptoms are back for a reason." He said mournfully, "It's over." I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, letting his words wash over me.

"I know." I choked out.

Dr. Bradshaw looked aghast, "Then why? Why are you doing this!" He exclaimed, "Doing more treatment will just cause you pain!"

I opened my eyes, making sure he understood. "I know." He was speechless as I walked out, waving to him gently, before disappearing.

"Don't forget to look back, Madison." My mom said gently, shaking me out of my memories. It was tradition to look back on all the places we've been. My mother always said it cleared your head for the places we would go.

I smiled up at her, making her believe I was fine, but I didn't look back. I never did. When you're living like I am, you don't clear your head to make room for new things. You hold onto memories because, soon enough, there the only things you _do _have. I looked down at my hands, willing the tears not to come. I forced my eyes to clear.

Dr. Bradshaw had asked why. Why was I doing this? Why was I letting my mother drag me halfway across the continent for treatment that wouldn't work? Why was I putting myself through more pain? The answer was simple:

When I died, I wanted my mother to feel like she had done all she could to save me.

* * *

><p><strong>Review? i'm new at the twilight scene, so any imput would be lovely (:<strong>


	3. Chapter 2

**I don't own anything to do with twilight...but i think madison is mine :)  
>this chapter's more of a background on madison, there should be another one up either later or tomorrow (depending on my mood)<br>this is my story and i love you for reading it (:  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Chapter 2:<p>

When I was little, I used to dream I was a bird. There was always something about the possibility of flying away that's appealed to me. Sometimes, when I'm sitting in a hospital room, trying to hold back my tears, I'll still look out the window, and just..._wish_ I was as lucky as them.

I never thought it was fair. My luck was either horribly good, or ridiculously bad, depending on how you look at my disease.

In one hand, I'm alive. I'm not supposed to be. I have no idea how I am, either. I can't count the amount of times doctors would just _look_ at me, then back down at my charts. I can tell they're thinking to themselves, "Oh god, she'll die here, I just know it." But, I never do.

In the other hand, I have to live with this. I have days where I pray for death, or at least, for death to come sooner. I can remember the exact day when I gave up. It was in 2004, and I was eleven. I was scheduled for another surgery, my fourth since discovering my disease, and I asked my mother the one question I've never asked aloud since:

_"Mommy, do I have to do this?"_

But, that's when I was doing this for me. Now, I'm doing this for my mother. My will to live, to survive, to beat this disease had long since left me. But, time and time again, I force my heart to keep beating.

When I was fifteen, I collapsed, coughing up blood. I was scheduled for an emergency surgery, to stitch back up what was left of my right kidney. A piece had literally ripped off. The tissue was too weak to hold on. _I_ was too weak to hold on.

I shook my head, remembering. I had almost lost begged my mother to let me go. But, in the end, I hadn't.

_"Baby," she sobbed softly, "you need to live. What would I do without you? I love you so much! Please god, please, don't make me say goodbye! You can't have her! Do you hear me? You can't!"_

I was supposed to be sleeping. I heard every word. Giving up all the 'hope' I was supposed to have would break my mother. What else could I do?

Throughout my sixteenth year, the disease was still present, and I needed bouts and bouts of medication stuffed into me daily. Some days, I was able to walk around the block, enjoying the sun on my back. Others, I was far too weak to even attempt getting out of bed. The days all molded together, and to tell you the truth, I barely remembered any of it.

It was this year, though, my seventeenth, that was the best. The treatment I had endured the year before was finally really paying off. I had months of nothing; no pain, no treatment, no symptoms. I got out, developed a mild tan, built up some of the lost muscle mass walking around. My hair got longer, stronger.

Then, last month happened. Everything came back, except for ten times worse. Those first few weeks...I was crippled. Everything hurt, everything still _does_ hurt.

I can't give up this time, though. I'm so close, so close to turning eighteen. It had never been my plan to stop treatment, at least, not at first. A seven year old doesn't think eleven years into the future. A fifteen/sixteen year old, however? That's all I _could_ think about.

I also couldn't give up for my mother's sake. She has no idea what I'm planning. I don't have the heart to tell her.

I needed to live for her. She wasn't ready to let me go. I think eighteen years is enough, though. I was on borrowed time, we both knew that. She just refused to believe it. Eighteen years of loving her, of having her love me...

My mom needed to get on with her life. Since my father left her when she got pregnant, she's been alone, save me, the sick, dying responsibility.

Once I was gone, she would be free to do whatever. She could go to the beach, go on a date, go be with her friends, without having to panic with worry: _Where was Madison? Was Madison ok? Did she get enough sleep? Is she breathing normally? Does Madison need my help?_

God, just thinking about it was exhausting. I couldn't imagine living it.

I would turn eighteen in one month. That's thirty days. I could make it. I knew I could.

But for now...I needed to get on with it. I needed to smile through my deceit, and get on that plane, and journey with my mother to the one place that 'had all the answers' as she put it.

I needed to keep my heart pumping blood through my weak, dying body, because my mother needed to understand that she had done all she could for me.

When I let my heart stop beating, she needed to know that I did it because I was done, not because she didn't do enough. She had done plenty. In the end, it was me that gave up.

I sighed to myself, _Forks, here we come._

* * *

><p><strong>Review? pleeeease!<strong>


	4. Chapter 3

**_I don't own anything to do with Twilight.  
><em>I'm not sure how long this story will end up being but...eh, whatever  
>there's one song that really sums this story up perfectly, in fact, i've been listening to in non-stop when i wrote this, it's called: if i die young by the band perry<br>i highly recommend listening to it****  
>this is my story, and I love you for reading it (:<strong>

* * *

><p>Chapter 3:<p>

Sitting in the car on the way to the airport was exhausting. Sitting on the bench waiting for the plane was exhausting. Sitting in a seat on the plane was exhausting. Sitting, waiting for the plane to take off was exhausting. Sitting on the plane, a couple thousand feet up in the air, was exhausting. When the plane finally landed and we were seated safely in a cab on our way to our new house, I was completely drained.

I leaned heavily against my mom as she stroked my hair. "We're almost there." She reassured me.

It was days like this, days were I could barely move, that my disease really ate away at me. What I would give to be able to _jog_ again. But, realistically, I knew it would never happen; not with the symptoms back and Dr. Bradshaw's parting last words.

I used to love running, feeling the wind in my hair, moving as fast as I could. When I was running, I felt alive; happy. Now, sitting on that airplane was as closed to flying as I would ever be again.

I must have nodded off against my mother, for the next thing I knew, I was being shaken awake lightly.

"Madison," my mom said, "we're here honey. Come look at this house! Isn't it great?"

I sat up and stretched slowly, giving my body time to readjust to bearing my weight again. I stared at the house before me and smiled. This was by far the nicest house we had ever lived in. It wasn't massively huge like in Eureka, but it had a certain...homey quality I immediately liked.

The front lawn was small, but green, bearing a huge garden of all seemingly different flowers. It was perfect; my mother loved to garden. I stared up at the second story, directly above the garden, and was met with blue window shutters over a partially opened window. A white curtain blocked the rest of my view. The house itself was white, too. I felt as though it was horribly cliched, but I liked it.

"Wow." I breathed.

My mom nodded beside me, "I know. It's even better then the pictures! Let's walk up around front. The realtor said something about the front door, but I don't remember exactly."

"Yeah, sure." I said easily. I was all too eager to go inside; my body was getting weaker by the second.

We walked, me, in front of my mother, just in case I fell, and examined the front door. My eyes went wide as I took in the damage. Neither of us spoke for a few moments.

"Well...I'm sure we can just paint over it?" My mom said slowly, gesturing to the door, a smile growing on her face.

I bit back my own laugh, "What _is_ it?"

There on the door, was a giant spray painted...something. A medley of weird colors, it looked more like a fat rainbow then anything else. Feet had obviously been placed on it. Although, they looked as though they were sprouting from the mass's back, along with another indefinable mass.

"Does it have e_ars?"_ I laughed out. My mom turned to be and smiled softly.

"I'm glad you're here, Madison."

I swallowed loudly, hating myself for what I was planning to do, "I'm glad I'm here too, mom."

A loud car horn split the air, making us both jump.

My mom swiped at the tear in her eye I wished I hadn't seen, "That'll be the cab driver. I forgot to pay him." I watched as she hurried off, then turned back to the giant...elephant? maybe, that guarded the door.

I felt a strange sense of attachment to it, even though it was technically graffiti.

A wave of nausea over took me then, and I stumbled forward, hunched over, and threw up the water I had forced myself to drink in the airport. My stomach growled, a sharp contradiction to the nausea, and I wiped my mouth off with a shaky hand.

I closed my eyes against the sparse sunlight and the vertigo that always followed throwing up. With my eyes still closed, I felt my way over to the first step leading up to the doorway, and say down.

My hands still shook. I needed to eat something; I had used too many calories, and my body couldn't compensate it. Throwing up was some twisted way my body demanded food.

_You'd think it would _want_ to keep whatever was in there, _I thought. I sighed and rested my head against my hands, holding in the pathetic sob that no doubt my mother would hear. I didn't want her to see me like this; not yet at least. Not when _this_, Forks, was the 'answer to everything.'

I cracked my eyes open, and turned myself around to stare at the graffiti elephant. I narrowed my eyes at it, "Don't tell her that happened," I said sternly. My voice sounded grainy, another side effect from the wonderful vomiting session I'd just had.

The pounding in my forehead, right above my eyes, increased slightly when my mom called over to me, "Madison! I've got the keys! The realtor just got here, I'll be right over."

"Sounds good!" I called back, as happily as I could manage. I leaned by head back down and breathed out heavily, trying to let all my frustrations ease out of me. This house, this stoop, this yard, this street, these _people, _allwould be my last batch. I wouldn't make it through another move.

I'm not sure how long I sat there. Long enough for my joints to stiffen right back up. If I had to guess, I would say several minutes. For me, personally, time clouded together when nothing else was going on. That reason was partly why my mother was uncomfortable with me being alone for any measurable length of time. I could sit in one place, unmoving, thinking minutes had passed, when it was really hours.

It was one of the scarier things my mind had done to me, since learning about the disease. One of my doctors, I don't remember which one, told me it wasn't un-heard of, but it wasn't exactly common either.

"Here I am!" My mom announced, "Sorry that took so long. You should have called me." Her voice started to get panicky, "Oh god, I didn't even think about your muscles. Are they cramping? Baby, you need to eat too!" She smacked the side of her face, "Shit! I'm so sorry, I don't know where my minds at!" She turned back around, searching wildly for the cab, which had just turned the corner.

My mom turned back to me, "We don't have any food. We'll go out." She tried to say brightly, but I could still hear the underlying worry, "I'll call for our car now then. It was supposed to be coming tomorrow, but we can't wait."

She ran her fingers through the tangle of her blonde waves, and opened her mouth to speak out again.

"I'm fine, mom." I interjected sharply. I hated seeing her like this. "I can make it for a few more hours." I lied, "I don't even hurt that much."

"You're in _pain?"_ My mom cried out, hurrying forward to help me up. I mentally smacked myself. Why did I say that? I had momentarily forgotten she doesn't know that I'm _always_ in pain. It was the one fact I had begged Dr. Bradshaw not to mention to her.

_It's fine_, _I can make it, I've been through worse,_ I jaded myself mentally. Once I stopped treatment, the sharp stabs of muscle pain and the ever present, pounding headache would eventually go away.

"No!" I said hurriedly, "I mean, I'm a little stiff, but I'm ok."

"You should lie down for a while, anyway."

I nodded lightly, knowing better than to contradict her now, not when she was in 'mother-hawk' mode again. I could literally see the gray hair developing.

We both walked through the front door, and stopped inside to flick on the light.

"Holy..." I trailed off, "where the last people to live here rich or something?" I asked.

We had always rented houses with furniture already stocked inside; it was just easier.

"We hit the jackpot!" My mom squealed. I couldn't stop the burst of laughter, but it was quickly cut off by the sharp pain in my side. I hid my gasp, looking over to my mother to see if she noticed. She didn't. She was much too preoccupied rushing around the kitchen, exclaiming a quick 'wow.'

'Wow' pretty much summed it up, though. Off to my left, the living room was decorated in blue wallpaper with some kind of gold stitching. A huge rug laid cover to the wooden floors, and the biggest television I had ever seen stood proudly against the back wall. Huge bay windows let whatever sunlight was outside stream in. The couch was big, brown, and looked delicious to sit on.

In fact, I did just that, collapsing into its comfy confines, putting my feet up on the coffee table.

"Look up." My mom whispered. My eyes reached the ceiling, and my mouth dropped open.

_How had I missed this?_ I thought wildly. Dangling above me was a giant chandelier, the kind you only see in movies. On either side of that, were to skylight windows, giving me a perfect view of the sky.

"Want to see your room?" My mother asked.

I dumbly nodded, following her up the stairs, using the railing to support myself. My mom lead me down the single hall, showing me the bathroom, and the one bedroom door.

"One bedroom?" I asked.

My mother fidgeted slightly, then recomposed herself, "I figured it would be easier, after you have the treatments, you could have your privacy." She flinched at the last word.

I allowed myself a small smile, "I don't mind." _You won't have to see me like that,_ I added silently.

My mother's eyes wandered back downstairs, and I could tell she was anxious to find her bedroom and see what it looked like.

I gestured back down the hall, "I'm ok by myself for a little while." I hinted.

"If you're sure..." She said hesitantly. When I didn't immediately rebuff my statement, she gathered me into a hug, making sure not to squeeze me too tightly, and hurried off back downstairs.

I turned to the door, struggling with the emotions I was feeling. This would be my last room. This would be the last time I would open a door, not sure what was on the other side.

I steeled myself, then reached out and opened the door and took the first steps of the last room I would ever call mine.

I walked through, and collapsed on the bed. I stared up at the ceiling. There was no chandelier here, which was a good thing. The last thing I needed was to wake up in a panic, thinking it would land on me. This room was less extravagant then the living room and massive kitchen, but somehow, it seemed to suit me. The white rug had been plush under my feet. The dresser was also white, but had a touch of purple, to match the wallpaper, which only covered one wall.

The other three walls were bare, save the mirror directly across the bed. I sighed. That would be the first thing to go. I can't stand mirrors. I already know my body was deteriorating. Having to see the deterioration, however, was a different thing entirely.

I watched myself struggle to get up in the mirror, and I turned my head away from it.

My eyes went wide suddenly, and I clenched a hand around my mouth as I recognized the tightness in my stomach meant. I hopped off the bed as fast as I dared go, and hurried to the bathroom, flicking on the light as I hunched over the toilet.

I threw up more water noisily into the bowl, and gagged on the smell. I hated throwing up. It made me feel weak. Throwing up was the one symptom I often pleaded with fate not to give me. Fate was a bitch, though, and never listened.

I rested my cheek against the cool tiled floor, and laughed humorlessly as my stomach growled, demanding food.

I heard my mom's footsteps barge up the stairs, and I pushed myself up into a sitting position. Too weak to hold my head up, it lolled against my shoulder. My hands shook again.

"Madison." My mom crouched in front of me, her bottom lip quivering. I reached out and pressed a cold hand against her cheek.

"I'm ok." I tried to calm her. She pressed a kiss in the palm of my hand, and sniffled deeply.

"The car arrived a few minutes ago. Let's go get you some food."

My rumbling stomach answered for me, and I let her help me up off the floor. I leaned against her heavily, my legs shaking with the simple effort of standing up.

"I think I saw a diner or something," My mom continued, while she led me down the stairs and out the door. "Ta-da! What do you think of the car?"

I blinked rapidly, quite sure I was finally having a hallucination. They weren't that common with my disease, but it's still possible to have one.

"It's a...a _mini-van."_ I choked out.

My mom nodded proudly, helping me into the passenger seat. "I finally got a mom car!"

I chuckled quietly, "So much for 'never driving one.'" I quoted her.

"Oh, stop it." She chided me, and her brow furrowed, "although, I've never driven one...buckle up, Madison." She reminded me, un-jokingly.

I stared out the window as we drove away. I liked watching everything go by in a blur. Forks was so different from any place we've lived before. It was... pretty disgusting here, actually. From what I could tell so far, the sun was sparse, disappearing altogether in places. The air was sticky with not yet fallen rain. The one thing I could never grow tired of looking at where the trees. I was glad Forks was basically a giant forest. Nature has always appealed to me.

I grabbed my stomach again, when it gave another demanding growl. I fingered my hip bone, hating how brittle it seemed to feel.

"We're here!" My mom called out cheerfully. She opened her door, and slammed it after her. I flinched at the noise that made my head seem like it would burst.

My knees shook for a moment, and I leaned back against the van, hoping nobody noticed. People stared, that was always a given. Humans were curious creatures, and when you see someone who looks like death, you look. I never liked it, but I had grown used to it. I had even gotten the occasional rude question when chunks of my hair were missing, or I didn't have any at all.

I tugged lightly on the cropped ends, remembering. It had taken months for it to grow out again.

"Coming?" My mother called from down the parking lot. I hadn't realized I still hadn't moved from my spot against the van.

"Coming!" I answered fast.

I followed her into the diner, and paused to read the name: Harry's Dinner was pasted on the front.

I crooked my head at the obvious misspelling, but didn't comment. The inside was cool, giving me goose bumps. It seemed I was always cold. 'Unable to retain body heat' was just another symptom on the long list I was currently holding.

"Hey, you guys can sit anywhere." A deep voice called out.

I raised my eyes and paused. _Holy good looking guy_, I thought to myself. He had to be the tallest person I had ever set eyes on. His dark skin tone made me feel even paler then I already knew I was. His body seemed huge compared to...anyone's really. Muscle was everywhere.

I felt meager in comparison.

"Madison," my mom whispered softly, "are you having a _moment_?"

My face reddened deeply, and the man paused behind the counter.

"No." I whispered hotly.

My mom blinked at my tone, and I softened my voice, "Really, it's just cold, that's all." I lied.

I couldn't tell her the truth, could I? That I thought the man was attractive? I had never had a boyfriend; my disease didn't allow it, nor did my mother. I got sick too easily. If I caught anything besides seasonal allergies, it was all over. My body wouldn't be able to fight them both.

"How about a booth?" My mom didn't wait for an answer, she just lead me over to the corner. I plopped myself down across from her and laid my head on my crossed arms. I stifled a yawn.

My mom studied my face, frowning, but let it go. I was glad; I was in no mood to hear how tired I looked. I couldn't help it.

The man I had admired, the only other person in the diner, walked over to our table a few minutes later, startling me out of myself. I had lost track of time again; the second time in one day. If I felt myself loosing track of time, via my doctor's orders, I was supposed to try and pull myself out of it.

Well, I had a question for the doctors: _How was I supposed to pull myself out of it, when I didn't know it was happening?_

I glanced up sheepishly at my mother's face, but she chose to remain silent again, and just raised her eyebrows. I didn't miss the shine in her eyes though- she had been close to crying.

"Sorry." I muttered.

She reached out and grabbed my hand, squeezing it gently. "Love you." I smiled in response, and then turned my attention to the man in front of us.

He seemed relieved to finally be noticed. "Hi, I'm Seth. So, what can I get you? Want to start off with drinks?" The man-Seth- asked us.

"Water, please." My mother ordered, "And the house salad."

Seth nodded eagerly, "Sure. And for you?" He turned his attention to me.

I shrank under his stare. I hadn't looked at the menu, but I knew I needed carbs and calories.

"Uhm...a coke and some cheese fries," I said.

"Ok, it-"

I cut him off with the rest of my order, "And a...hamburger, and I have one question."

Seth seemed taken aback, but recovered quickly, "What's the question?"

"Which has more calories- the" I glanced quickly at the desert menu, "chocolate cake, or rocky road ice cream?"

He blinked once, and I knew he was trying to see if this was a joke or not. But, it wasn't. I needed heavy, bulky food to keep my body going. And, sadly, whatever I was going to eat, I would probably throw up later. I may as well eat something that tastes good, right?

"The chocolate cake, I think." He scratched his head, "I'm not sure though, I've never been asked that."

I shrugged, "Chocolate cake it is then."

His eyebrows went up, way up. "Big eater? I like that." He jokingly winked at me.

I blushed mildly under his true accusation, and quickly turned my focus out the window next to me. Seth sauntered away, leaving me with my thoughts- and my mother.

"Madison," she sighed, "how're you feeling? And don't downplay it. You never order dessert unless you know it'll come back up later."

I kept staring out the window, not wanting to lie to her for what seemed like the hundredth time today. She tapped her fingers along the side of the table. The sound made my skin crawl.

"I'm fine." I lied, finally.

My mother's reply was cut off by Seth arriving with a huge plate of food, for me, and a small salad, for my mother. He placed the food in front of us, respectively.

"Anything else?" He asked with a chuckle.

I kept my eyes purposely downcast. Me and my mother both answered at the same time:

"Nope."

"Yes!"

I lifted my head, wondering what else she would eat. It seemed my mom was constantly on a diet.

"What time do you open tomorrow?"

"Seven. And we close at nine tomorrow night. Normally we stay open until ten, but there's a bonfire."

"Bonfire?" I asked curiously.

Seth nodded to me, "Yeah, it's down on First Beach."

"First Beach?" I sounded like a broken record.

"In La Push, on the Quileute Reservation." He clarified.

"Cool." I answered dumbly.

I looked out the window again, and Seth took that as his cue to leave.

I could feel my mother's eyes on me as I stuffed my face. The little strength I had managed to keep with me throughout the years returned then, and my pounding headache reseeded to the dull throb that was always present. Even my spirits lifted. Maybe Forks wouldn't be so bad...

~~OO~~

I stared at the mirror lining the wall in my bedroom and fought the urge to throw it out the window. Everything hurt again.

I clamped a hand over my mouth, and for the third time since arriving home, I dashed to the bathroom and emptied my stomach.

"Oh god." I moaned, quietly.

I heard my mom's footsteps on the stairs and pushed the door closed with my back foot. She didn't need to see this.

She knocked quietly on the door, just as another dry-heave wracked through my body. The tears in my eyes swelled over, streaming down my face, as I clutched at my body, just wanting it to _stop._

"Madison! Answer me, baby."

"I'm _fine!"_ I echoed myself from earlier, "It'll pass. It always does."

"Please open the door." She demanded.

"No, really, I'm ok." I pleaded silently, _just go back downstairs._

After a few silent minutes from both of us, I stood up on shaky legs and hunched over the sink, rinsing my mouth out. I flinched away from my reflection, knowing the pale, shaky, scared girl looking back wasn't really _me._

I padded out of the bathroom, past my worried mother, who hugged me gently, and back into my room. Using whatever willpower I had left, I heaved the mirror off the wall, and laid it face down on the floor.

I wrenched the curtains shut on the window, and crawled into bed. I glanced at the alarm clock, which read 7:56, before yanking the cord out of the wall. The time was yet another reminder of how truly weak I had become. My bedtime when I was six had been 8:15.

I pulled the covers over my head, and sighed. I squeezed my eyes shut, before relaxing every part of my body, starting with my toes.

"Thirty more days." I whispered to myself, before rolling over, landing in a deep sleep; dead to the world.

* * *

><p><strong>review? it makes me happy (:<strong>


	5. Chapter 4

**_I don't own anything to do with Twilight.  
><em>Count your lucky stars- a chapter! I'm going to my friends huge anti-prom party tonight, so don't expect anything until like...sunday (:  
>this is my story and i love you for reading it !(:<em><br>_**

* * *

><p>Chapter 4:<p>

Being able to look down on yourself when you sleep is never a good thing...even if it was a dream. I looked so pale, so small. My appearance made me sick. I didn't look like someone who was fighting; I looked like someone who already gave up.

But it was true, wasn't it? In essence, didn't I give up? I was still breathing, but the rest of me? I was already dead.

In my dream, I tried to wake myself up. I screamed my throat hoarse, and stamped around the room, throwing furniture that was not mine. I begged, pleaded myself to open my eyes- to not die. Not here; not now.

I was terrified of death. It terrified me. To know that one day, soon, I would just be _gone._ Living day to day, knowing that tomorrow could be the last day your eyes ever open...let's just say people can drive themselves crazy just _wondering. _

As I looked over my sleeping form once more, a sense of overall calmness filled the air. My emotions had always been a wild rollercoaster, but lately, they were getting tamer. It seemed even my subconscious was giving in to death. My sleeping form shuddered once, engulfed in the many blankets that still didn't keep me warm enough.

I ran my fingers through my hair, and my vision blurred. A single tear made its way down my face, pooling in the hollow base of my throat, almost like a jewelry pendant would. The tear seemed to shine in the moonlight, giving my still sleeping form a regal appearance.

I sighed, and opened my eyes.

~~OO~~

I looked worse. I looked w_orse._ I knew the symptoms would kick in, making me lose more weight, making my paler, making me seem...weaker. Making my bones tired, my muscles evaporate, making my hair brittle, easily breakable. But it had only been a month, and already, I looked worse then I was supposed to.

_Dr. Bradshaw's right,_ I thought wildly, _it really is over._

I sucked in a deep breath and puffed my cheeks out. I slowly let the breath back out, and reached for the blush I almost never used. I swiped the brush once, twice over both cheeks and applied some mascara. After examining my appearance again, there really wasn't anything I could improve on.

Next was the checklist I had been assigned to complete every morning to 'evaluate' myself. Standing at 5'4, a healthy weight would be anywhere between 110 to 140 pounds. Our last day in Eureka, I had weighed in at 103 pounds exactly. With a sinking feeling, I knew it must have gone down. I had been able to keep next to no food down since arriving in Forks.

I stepped on the scale. A perfect 101.5 greeted me ominously. I bowed my head, holding in tears. I fingered my hip bone again, running my hands up my waist, feeling each protruding rib. I was wasting away. I sniffled once, wiping my eyes on my sleeve. Hopelessness engulfed me.

I grabbed the pen and looked down at the self-evaluation chart:

**How much do you weigh today?**

_101.5,_ I scribbled down.

**Do you feel excessive kidney/stomach pain?**

_Not excessive._

**Have you thrown up in the last twelve hours?**

_No._

**Are you experiencing a severe headache?**

_Not severe._

**Are you feeling depressed/suicidal?**

_No._

With the exception of my weight, the rest was a lie. If my mother didn't scan them daily, I would probably write down the truth...maybe. If I wasn't able to keep down enough food today, I would have to lie on the weight question, too.

My stomach grumbled, and I tried my best to ignore it.

I padded down the stairs, using the railing in case I slipped, and stood in front of the refrigerator, panting with exertion. I pulled the doors open, and...nothing. My stomach grumbled again, and I sat down on the floor, letting my headache consume me.

With every heart beat I had, my forehead pulsed angrily. I opened the refrigerator again and laid my head against the bottom, letting the cool air soothe away some of the pain. I didn't even know where the Tylenol was. And, if I did, I was in no place to pull myself up and get it. Even my knees hurt, just from kneeling on the floor.

My mom's worried voice carried across the kitchen, startling me. _"Madison?" _

"What?" I asked, my head still in the refrigerator. My voice echoed around the confines.

"What's wrong? Are you ok? Are you having-"

"No." I cut her off tiredly, "I am not having a _moment." Don't be mean!_ My inner conscience yelled at me, _she doesn't understand._

And it was true. My mother didn't understand what I was going through. Answering her simple, worrying question caused me an immeasurable amount of aggravation.

I sighed, pulling myself out of the fridge, and faced her. I made my expression as blank as possible, not wanting to show just how frustrated I was. "Is there food?"

My mom's face lit up like last year's Christmas tree, "You're hungry?" She asked eagerly, "that's good! The diner we went to last night should be open by now, or...?" She trailed off, leaving the decision to me.

"Diner sounds good." I stood up shakily to my feet. "Let's go."

"Sure, let me grab the keys. Do you think I should change?"

I looked over her dusty jeans and blouse. "You look fine." I said honestly.

"Are you sure?" She asked hesitantly, then chuckled, "new town, new people to impress, after all!"

My stomach twinged again. "Mom," I said urgently, "I really can't wait."

I winced at her reaction. 'Mother-hawk' was back. My mom's demeanor changed instantly and drastically, from the fun woman worrying about her outfit, to the concerned parent, desperately worrying about their dying child. I hated it. I hated what I did to her. After I spoke those words, she aged ten years.

My mom jogged forward, ripping the keys off the hook, and opened the door, walking briskly to the car. "Madison!" She called over her shoulder, "you should have told me sooner. We can be there in five minutes. Let's roll!"

I rolled out a kink in my shoulder, and followed her through the door. Before getting into the car, I took one last glance at the elephant still on the door. I was really beginning to like it.

~~OO~~

The parking lot of Harry's Dinner was deserted. The diner itself was almost deserted, save Seth, the waiter from yesterday, and one of his humungous friends. At least, I hoped they were friends. Currently, they looked more like they were having an argument then talking, but whatever. It was none of my business. So, remind me again why I kept looking over?

I jerked my eyes back to the menu in front of me, my first time actually reading it.

"Do you know what you want?" My mom asked me softly. Ever since arriving here, in the cool-air conditioned diner, my joints had stiffened up. I was trying to hold in the tremors that wracked my body every now and again. Why did I wear shorts? I cursed my stupidity.

I nodded my head at my mother's question, and searched around for a waiter. If I didn't get food soon, my body would revolt, causing me embarrassment and pain. I laid my head down in my arms again, sighing, and closed my eyes.

_Don't fall asleep_, I coached myself. I stifled another yawn, and my mom rubbed my elbow. She didn't say anything. What was there _to_ say?

"I made an appointment with the doctor here that was recommended."

Apparently, there is a lot to say.

My voice was monotone as I replied, "Great." I shifted my weight, unstitching my hands from the table top.

"May I help you?" A deep voice said, coming from directly above me.

I jumped severely, banging my knees on the underside of the table; my entire body flinched.

Seth spoke again, this time laced with humor, "Oh shi-shoot, I didn't mean to scare you."

I sat up, gasping, clutching my knees, hoping to god my mother didn't notice. It was no secret that I was delicate. With my disease, any bump, bruise, scrape is a danger to my health. I could start bleeding and never stop. God was not on my side.

"Madison!" My mom spoke sharply, drawing Seth's attention, and my own.

"It's fine." I said tersely, blinking back the moisture from my eyes.

"Let me see." She demanded.

My eyes widened, and I glanced at Seth, who just looked a little embarrassed.

"Not here, mom." I spoke with a firm conviction. She wouldn't do this here- not in front of Seth, not in Forks, my last town to live normally. "Not here." I repeated.

My mother shot Seth a furious look, then inched her way out of the booth with a quick, "be right back."

We both watched, me in resigned sadness, Seth in complete confusion, as she exited the diner, and then hopped into the mini-van, slamming the door. I knew she would be crying. Crying to my mother was a lot like how I acted when I was throwing up. They were our weaknesses, and we didn't want to share them with anyone.

I sighed out, rubbing my knees slowly, and scooted out of the booth to assess the damage. Seth's unholy gasp made me flinch, as we both took in my appearance.

Both knees were strikingly pale, which made the large lumps stand out even more. I knew they would be purple by the end of the night.

"_Fuck,_ are you ok?" He asked me.

"I'm fine," I lied easily, "I'm just an easy bruiser." Maybe my lie would have worked, had I, in that moment, not double over from a sharp pain in my side.

"Ungh." I expelled a rough sound, clenching my fists against my stomach, and didn't move, waiting for it to pass. My face paled as another wave hit me, making me pitch forward. After a few more seconds, I gasped out loudly in relief.

Still to weak to stand upright, I hunched myself over, and landed back into the booth seat.

"God, are you ok?" asked a voice I had never before heard.

I didn't open my eyes, though, as I lied again, "hunger pains."

The door bell chimed and I heard hurried footsteps, followed by a shriek of, "Madison!" I repressed the urge to throw myself on the ground and just give up. I didn't want her to see me like this; having these two men, practically strangers, see me was enough for one day.

I opened my eyes, not looking anywhere else but my mother's worried face. She crouched in front of me, keeping out eyes level. Her brown eyes were rimmed by redness; I was right, she had been crying in the car.

"I'm sorry." I spoke quietly. My mother grabbed my hand and nodded. She understood.

"What happened?"

I shrugged, acting like it was no big deal, "hunger pains." I repeated the lie I had given to Seth. My mother raised her eyebrows, clearly suspicious.

"No, really!" I added earnestly, "I just haven't eaten and my body needs calories."

My mother released the breathe she had been holding and relaxed, turning to Seth, the mean glint still in her eye, "well, are we getting food, or not?"

Seth jumped to attention, flipping out his pad, scribbling the meals my mother spat at him. I tuned it all out, and stared out the window again, ignoring the dull throb in my knees and forehead.

The parking lot was still empty. I was amazed this diner was still in business.

"I really am sorry, I had no idea that would-"

I turned around and raised my hand, effectively stopping Seth's apology. He had been speaking in a fast, slightly dazed, guilty voice. The kind of voice that seemed to follow me, wherever I go.

"It's ok." I said firmly, "It's not your fault."

My mother just shook her head, clearly not accepting my lack of anger towards him, but thankfully didn't say anything.

A car alarm went off in the parking lot, making everyone startle, giving me time to collect myself. I rubbed over my knees one last time, hating the disease as I felt the giant bruises that would form. I wiped at my eyes before gasping, a single thought entering my mind.

I held back my laugh, "Mom?" I asked innocently.

She looked up, "Yeah, baby?"

"Isn't that _our_ car?" I asked sweetly.

The expression on my mom's face turned priceless. Like a fish on dry land, her eyes bulged out, and she made a sweeping motion with her head; snapping her neck back to the parking lot, back to me, then landing on the parking lot once again.

"God!" My mom ran out the door for the second time, waving the keys around, and I let loose my bubble of laughter.

Once I started, I couldn't stop. I clutched at my sides and tears started to form in the corner of my eyes. It was just so funny. She was still waving the keys around, pressing button after button, before opening the driver's side door and launching herself in. One of her flip-flops fell off as her feet dangled in the air. Another bubble of laughter emerged from me.

It took me a moment to realize I wasn't the only one laughing. I effectively stopped as I turned around, and stared at the stranger. His eyes widened slightly, looking into mine, knowing he had been caught.

"Sorry." He gasped out, gesturing to my mom, "it's just not something you see every day. Are you new to Forks?"

"Yeah." I said slowly, "We got here yesterday."

The man nodded, like he expected this, "Good. This town needs to be shaken up."

Seth's voice carried from the back, "God, Em. That's the _last_ thing this town needs."

The stranger chuckled, and I felt like I was missing something. I didn't ask, though. People, myself included, liked their privacy.

"I'm Madison." I offered, after a few quiet seconds.

"Embry." The man-Embry- offered me his hand, and I grabbed it. I crooked my head at how warm his skin felt, but shrugged it off. In my current state, everything felt hot.

Another screech of the car alarm sent a wave of giggles through my system, as I looked at my mother now- in a full blown panic.

Embry sat down across from me, somehow squeezing his massive frame into the tiny space. He was built exactly like Seth, right down to the bulging muscles.

"Are you and Seth brothers?" I asked curiously.

"Hah! No, If I had to live with that little bugger, there's no telling what I'd do." I smiled at his sarcastic answer.

"Love you, too!" Seth called from the back.

I rolled my eyes. Boys. Had I seen either of them on the street, I probably would have been wary, but now, after spending mere minutes with them, I knew they could both never hurt a fly. Don't ask me _how_ I knew- maybe the disease had triggered something again- but I didn't think so. They were really both, big-hearted...well, _giant_ people.

The car alarm in the distance finally stopped, giving off its last dying sound. Seconds later, my mom entered with an almighty huff, then paused when she saw me and Embry in the booth, with Embry occupying her seat.

"Em! Make yourself useful. Get the food!" Seth called from the back. Embry rolled his eyes at me, but did as he was told, heaving his body up and sauntering to the back, returning mere seconds later, with platters of food.

My mom plopped herself down in the now vacated seat muttering about crazed cars. Her face brightened with the arrival of food, and we dug in. Unlike last night, I paced myself. I was hoping this time I would be able to keep the calories down, giving my body some kind of leverage to fight this.

"Good?" My mom asked me, after we were both done.

"Yeah." I said tiredly. Was it wrong that just sitting here, enjoying a meal with my mother, had exhausted me?

"Can we have the check?" My mom called out to Seth.

My eyes widened. Oh, _crap._

"Be right back." I muttered to my mom, before walking purposely towards the bathroom. As soon as the door was closed, I gagged dangerously. I was panting hard, and little beads of sweat formed on my brow.

I faced myself in the mirror, hating what I saw. "No." I told my reflection fiercely. "Hold it down." I ordered myself. The room felt ten degrees cooler and my hands shook. The almost formed bruises on my knees screamed weak.

I hunched over the sink, rinsing my mouth out with water, desperate to keep the nausea at bay. I washed my face with warm water, and felt my mascara drip down my face. I sighed, before grabbing a roll of toilet paper, and wiping my face, removing all traces of makeup, including my biggest ally: blush.

I looked back in the mirror, feeling ugly. My face was back to its original color; disgustingly pale. Without the mascara, my eyes seemed to sink further back into my head. My cheekbones seemed brittle, and made hollow dips on each cheek.

"I hate you." I spoke to my reflection, the girl everyone saw, but who wasn't _me._ I wasn't pale, thin, weak, a liar. That wasn't _me. _It was what I had _become._ I wiped at the tears in my eyes again, leaving an unattractive red rim around them.

But, underneath all that was a tiny victory. I hadn't thrown up. I had forced myself to keep it down. I had won; in this small battle between myself and my disease, my disease had lost.

I shook my head, fluffing my dull hair out, and gave me-the real me, not my reflection- a small smile. I hated the girl everyone saw me as, but I still liked _myself._

I opened the door, and walked back into the diner, scanning for my mother. My brow furrowed when I didn't see her.

I turned to ask Seth, when I bumped into a very hard, very warm mass.

"Oof!" I expelled a rough sound, and staggered backwards, before warm hands wrapped around my upper arms, holding me up.

I shook my hair out of my eyes, looking up at the brick wall who held me. I blinked once, and was met with the hottest guy I had ever seen in my life. All at once, his expression changed from mild bewilderment, to undying fascination. His chocolate eyes bore into mine, seeing into my soul. His mouth dropped open, and his eyes raked over my face.

A blotchy blush creeped up my neck into my face. He hadn't let go; he was still holding me. I ripped my arms out of his grasp, and he took a step forward, crowding me again. I looked down at the floor, still feeling his eyes searching over my face.

Staring was common with my disease. People stared. When you see someone who looked like I did, who looked a moment away from death, you stared. I had gotten too comfortable here. When Seth and Embry hadn't done a double take like most people, I had subconsciously let myself think no one would do it.

I had been foolish. I snapped my eyes back up to the man's face. He was still staring, as he had been for the last several seconds. Someone always stared. _Always._

"Seth?" I called quietly, taking a few steps back. "Where's my mom?"

Seth's eyes darted back between me and the man. Even he was staring now.

I fought off the urge to cry. I knew I looked horrible coming out of the bathroom. I just didn't realize I looked _that_ horrible.

"_Hello_!" I flinched as Embry's loud voice ripped through the air, bringing everyone to their senses, including the un-named man. He blinked rapidly, taking another step forward, still staring.

"Where's my mom?" I asked, my voice laced with oncoming hysteria. I didn't want to cry in front of these people. If they were going to stare, then they didn't deserve my tears.

"She's in the car," Embry supplied, when neither Seth nor the man made a move to answer me. Embry glanced at the man in front of me and rolled his eyes, "_Madison_."

Seth shook his head, and walked forward, "This is Paul." He pointed to the hulking stranger.

"Madison." The stranger- Paul- rolled my name off his tongue.

"I-I have to go." Without waiting for a reply of any kind, I whipped around, and took off for the safety of the car.

"No-w_ait!"_ Someone yelled behind me, but I didn't look back. I climbed into the car, keeping my eyes purposely downcast.

In the span of one minute, I had gone from feeling mildly good about my small victory against my disease, to feeling completely ugly, worthless, disgusting.

It was funny really, how one stare could make or break you. And Paul's? It had definitely broken me.

* * *

><p><strong>review? si vous plait? you can't so no to FRENCH!<strong>


	6. Chapter 5

_**I don't own anything to do with Twilight.  
><strong>_**so, i wanted to do the imprinting from paul's view...tell me if you think i do it justice or not.  
><strong>**this is my story, and i love you for reading it! (:  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Chapter 5<p>

Paul's Point of View

This week had sucked. Seven days of pure suck-tastic suckness, all rolled into one giant suckball, known to the common man as Harry's Dinner. Even the name sucked. I didn't understand why Seth just wouldn't change it to the correct spelling at least.

I sighed, taking in survey of the hell itself. The diner was deserted, then again, it's never really been bustling.

"Ungh..." I groaned to myself. I still couldn't believe that on top of patrol, Sam would force me to help out _here_, Harry's Dinner, the place where absolutely nothing happens-ever.

I looked around again from my spot in the parking lot, listening for any cars coming. It was dead silent.

"Fuck this." I muttered to myself, and I turned around. Now came the hard part.

Ignoring an alpha's command isn't easy, but it's not impossible. You just had to find loopholes.

See, Sam had ordered me to 'help at the diner.' Well, too bad for him he didn't specify _when_ he wanted the help to arrive. Oh, I would go and help the non-existent costumers...I would just go ten minutes from closing.

I raised my middle finger high and proud as I continued to walk away. _Here's to you, Sam._

I jogged a little ways down the street, making my strides shorter. Trust me, there's nothing worse then bystanders watching you run like you're in an Olympic event. It brings about a lot of unwanted attention.

Not wearing a shirt, I already stood out from the crowd. Why make it more obvious?

I glanced around, making sure nobody could see me as I ducked into the woods. Running home human would just be a pain in my ass; it's much easier just to phase.

I stepped behind one of the larger trees, and stripped off my shorts, phasing moments later. The _rush_ of phasing...there's nothing like it. Everything's the same...but stronger, better, faster, more powerful and dominant.

I was invincible.

I grabbed the denim shorts in my mouth, carefully holding them to avoid any unnecessary tares, and took off at a slower pace, enjoying the little sun that was seldom offered.

A car alarm going off in the distance stopped me.

I paused mid-stride, crooking my massive wolf head at the noise. It sounded close. Like..._hell_ close.

_Fuck._ There was no way that car alarm wasn't coming from the goddamned diner parking lot. Forest surrounded the diner on three out of four sides, and Seth jogged to work, so the car wasn't his. If I remembered correctly, Embry was going to stop by and see how the place was holding up...but he wouldn't have been driving either.

_Curse this shit,_ I thought to myself. Nobody else was phased.

Seth had taken his dad's death hard, really hard. I felt for him. Having to share his thoughts was torture; the pain... sadness consumed the pack for days afterward.

It had been Harry's dream to open the diner, and when he finally did, he had been the happiest man in La Push. Even though, technically, the diner was in Forks. Nobody dared mention that to Harry though. He'd ban you from the diner for weeks, not that the food was worth paying for, mind you.

After he died...people just stopped coming. It was too painful. The diner hadn't gotten a great a start to begin with, and after Harry's death, business just s_topped._

It stopped for everyone but Seth. He ran the diner just as his old man had. Nothing had changed. Even the sucktastic name. Sue helped out a few times a week, but she was getting older. Since Leah refused to step foot into the building, the responsibility had fallen on Seth.

The car alarm stopped suddenly, and my wolf relaxed, wanting nothing more then to just go home and vegetate.

My small, dumb inner conscience nagged at me, though. I growled in frustration, and turned back around, picking out a tree to hide behind.

I phased instantly and tugged on my shorts, pulling a small leaf from my short hair.

"Seth Clearwater, you owe me kid." I ground out angrily. I huffed and walked back towards the diner, seething.

~~OO~~

When I finally got back to the diner, I was pissed to say the least. My temper was getting the best of me today. It didn't help that I had just run double patrols, and that I hadn't slept in nearly a day.

I mentally cursed Sam again, for making me come here. Then, I cursed myself, for actually turning back around.

The diner was deserted, except for my two idiot friends: Seth and Embry.

I strode forward, giving Embry a hard punch on his upper arm, and sat down in one of the bar stools.

"Jesus, Paul. Watch it!" Embry said, rubbing his arm.

I snorted. We both knew there wouldn't be a mark.

Seth rolled his eyes at us both, and turned an eye to me.

"What?" I spat out.

"You're not wearing a shirt!" Seth sighed, rubbing his hand across his face.

"And?" I challenged, standing up. I was in a fighting mood. It had been too long since I had last really let loose.

Seth pointed to a closet near the bathrooms.

I raised my eyebrows defiantly, egging him on.

"Guys, cool it." Embry chimed in, like the fucking voice of reason or some shit.

I glowered for a few more seconds just to let him know I was still ready for a right. Seth backed down first, but jerked a finger over his shoulder adamantly.

"Fine." I got up and stalked over to the closet, pulling out a shirt at random and throwing it on. "Happy?" I asked sarcastically.

Embry shook his head at me and Seth smiled cockily, thinking he had won. My temper flared up again and I walked forward...just to have something whack into me.

"Oof!"

Thanks to my quick wolf reflexes, my hands shot out of their own accord, grabbing the girl who had walked into me, to keep her from falling over.

I looked down at her, hoping my body hadn't done anything damaging, like make her nose bleed or something. Hey, it wouldn't be the first time.

She shook her hair out of her eyes, and I was...floored.

I couldn't help but release all the air in my lungs as my eyes met hers. Then again, who the fuck needed air? I could survive purely on this girl alone. I was awestruck. I stared into her brilliant green eyes, feeling the weight of the world shift.

One by one, everything in my life I had deemed 'important' fell by the wayside.

_Snip,_

_snip,_

_snip._

Life threads were cut and re-tied, directly around this girl. I searched her face, desperate to memorize every inch of ivory beauty. She was perfect; she was _mine._

A delicious blush crawled across her face, and I leaned closer, still memorizing the lines of her face. A freckle here, a small dimple there, I loved every inch I encountered.

All at once, my e_verything_ ripped her slender arms from my hands where I still held her. My heart darkened; It made me feel empty, wrong, to _not_ have her protected in my arms.

"Seth" my girl spoke,- jealously stabbed at me, why had she not spoken to _me-_ "where's my mom?"

_Say something!_ My brain roared at me. I needed to feel her in my arms again. I took a step forward, needing, wanting to be closer.

"_Hello?"_ I vaguely heard Embry shout. His voice wasn't nearly as loud enough as my girl's had been; not to my anyways.

"Where's my mom?" She asked again. I wrinkled my brow. Her voice had sounded funny...worried almost. A stab of...something ripped me open. What was wrong? Why did she sound like that? Did _I_ do that? I'd kill whoever made her sound like that, I swore I would.

"She's in the car." I heard Embry say. What were they even talking about? I didn't care. I just wanted to wrap the girl in my arms again. "_Madison." _Embry spoke again.

"This is Paul." I heard Seth say.

All at once, my brain clicked. I had imprinted. _Holy fuck._

"Madison." I said out loud. Madison, Madison, Madison. My girl had a name. She had a _name_ and I knew it.

"I-I have to go." Madison said quickly, before whirling around.

Wait, _what?_ _Go?_ No! She couldn't leave!

"No-_wait!" _I yelled, sprinting a few yards forward, stopping short of the door. I watched hopelessly as Madison, my Madison, got into a mini-van and drive away.

I turned around, my mouth still open in shock, facing my two pack members.

Embry smiled cheekily, "Well? I guess you're a man now. How do you feel?"

I blinked once, the imprint tugging at my core, begging me to find her again.

"I..." I trailed off, and then cleared my throat, "I feel sick."

Seth grinned widely at my statement then gestured towards the door, "go find her, _then_ come and help me."

I waited for the burst of anger to come forth at his statement,- I _hated_ being told what to do- but none came. Weird.

I didn't look back as I ripped off the shirt I had taken and sprinted down the path I knew the min-van had taken. I inhaled deeply, still mildly smelling my imprint's unique scent. I inhaled once more, getting a slight high from the smell.

I could find her anywhere. I _needed_ to find her.

* * *

><p><strong>well...that was a little hard to write. pleeease, pleeease review! the most i've gotten for a chapter is 4. i would really, really LOVE ten! i know you can do it! just hit the little button!<strong>


	7. Chapter 6

_**I don't own anything to do with Twilight.  
><strong>_**this is my story, and i love you for reading it (:**

* * *

><p>Chapter 6:<p>

Did you know, that in all my seventeen years of living, I've never jumped off a swing? I never had the opportunity and it's one of the things I've always wanted to do.

I could only imagine the rush...swinging up so high, feeling so almighty, then releasing your hands, flying through the air, the wind blowing your hair everywhere...

And then landing safely on your feet, in an almost anticlimactic way.

It was almost cruel knowing one resided just outside the borders of my backyard. I could only see the top monkey bars off in the distance, a porch was blocking the rest of my view, but I knew the swings would be there.

I've never had the chance to do a lot of things...

"Madison?" My mother asked hesitantly. "I was thinking about some lunch, before the doctors? I made the appointment at eight."

"Sure." I replied automatically.

"We-" My mother sighed, and I looked up. Dark lines were etched into her face and her hair was slightly poofed- like she had been running her fingers worriedly through it. "there's no food in the house. We need to go shopping. There's a supermarket about twenty minutes away."

My heart sank. "We?" I asked sadly.

My mother sank to her knees by my side where I sat on the back steps. "Baby, I can't leave you."

I patted her knee and sighed. "I can stay here, mom. Please?" I asked again. A slight wind fluttered by, and I swear, I heard the chains on the swings rattle.

"Madison." My mom sighed my name, "What if something happens?"

"Nothing will happen!" I said quickly. My mother had a look of pure disbelief on her face, so I continued hastily, "and if anything were to happen, I have a phone. _And_ I know your number, _and_ I have emergency medication."

My mom chewed on her bottom lip, deep in thought. I knew she was trying to come up with a sold reason, besides her worry, why I shouldn't stay home alone. When she hesitated, I jumped at another chance to reassure her.

"I'm seventeen." I reminded her, "I know my body, and I know my limitations. _Please."_

With a loud outtake of breathe, my mom nodded her head slowly. She looked me in the yes, dead serious, "I want you to call me if anything happens. I swear to god, Madison, if you so much as cough, I want to know about it."

I crossed my fingers behind my back, knowing she couldn't see them. "I promise."

~~OO~~

I felt guilty, like I was doing something wrong. People my age felt guilty about lying to their parents, sneaking out, partying all night long. I felt guilty about walking a few doors away to sit on a swing.

It had taken my mother an hour of puttering around the house, mumbling to herself, but she had finally felt without incident. Of course, not before re-writing all the emergency contact numbers (which only included her's and the hospitals) and sticking them to the refrigerator. I estimated she would be back in about an hour, maybe an hour and a half if I struck lucky.

Which is why I needed to hurry up and do this; jump off a swing. If my mother knew I was planning on doing this, she would blow a gasket and most likely never leave me home alone again.

"Come on, Madison." I spoke harshly to myself, "just do it."

I took another step forward, and reached out to put my hand on the swing. "See?" I muttered under my breath, "nothing bad happened."

But still, I couldn't bring myself to do it. My body seized up, and I couldn't move. The swing- the unknown- scared me. At the same time, I wanted to do this. I had to do this, just once, before I died; before I missed my chance.

I took another step forward and perched myself shakily onto the seat. "Now swing." I ordered myself.

It took my weak legs a few tries, but I finally was able to maintain a light rocking back and forth. The only problem was I wasn't nearly high enough. I had always imagined myself flying through the air...at this height, I would be lucky to get half a second of flight.

I groaned out my frustration, and nearly fell of backwards when I heard a loud voice from behind me.

"Want me to push you?"

"AH!" I shrieked, hopping off the swing, whirling to see who had spoken.

"Sorry!" The man said in front of me, "I didn't mean to scare you."

I squinted my eyes against the sun and blinked at the familiar person in front of me.

"I met you at the diner." I blurted. The man seemed surprised-pleased?- that I had remembered him. "You're..." I hesitated, then snapped my fingers when I suddenly recalled his name, "Paul."

My face flushed as I remembered how he wouldn't stop staring at me. I didn't look much different then I had this morning. And...yep, Paul was still staring.

He crooked a smile in my direction that lit up his...unusually gorgeous face. I had never seen anyone that looked as...well, _hot_ as Paul did. His dark skin tone, muscled figure, rough stubble, surprisingly soft eyes...

I shook my head, as I realized I was staring at him, just as much as he was me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

Paul shrugged nonchalantly, "Just walking."

I wrinkled my nose at his answer. I wasn't the best at reading people, but I had a gut feeling he was lying to me.

"Do you want me to push you?" He asked again, his voice weirdly hopeful. He walked to stand directly in front of me. I craned my neck up to see his face, and he looked down to see mine.

"You're tall." I remarked stupidly.

Paul chuckled and quirked a smile before responding, "you're short."

Another breeze blew past, making my short hair swirl around my face. I shivered.

"Are you cold?" He asked worriedly.

"No, I'm fi-"

My reply was cut off by Paul thrusting his jacket into my hands, "here, take this. I don't need it."

"Really," I said again, more firmly, "I'm f-"

Paul cut me off, "Freezing, I know." He winked playfully at me, and to my horror, my blush creeped across my face again.

_Great,_ I thought sarcastically, a_t least now I have some color._

If Paul noticed my embarrassment at blushing, he didn't comment on it. Instead, he just walked behind me, helping me into his jacket. It warmed me instantly, and his smell filled my nose; almost like pine.

"Thanks." I said awkwardly.

He just nodded, like this was a normal, everyday occurrence, and repeated his earlier question, "Want me to push you?"

I paused before answering, bidding my time. Did I want him to push me? I couldn't get high enough on my own, obviously. What could it hurt? Plus, with my mom undoubtedly hurrying from a panic attack, I really needed to carry out my mission quickly.

"Sure." I tried to act nonchalant. It would have worked, too. Had my voice not squeaked at the end.

Without looking at him, I climbed back into the seat of the swing, wrapped my hands around the chains, and studied the ground at my feet.

I jumped a little as warm hands caressed my back gently. He pulled my back slowly, holding the swing up higher then I had been able to get on my own, and moved his mouth next to my ear.

"Ready?" He whispered. I swallowed loudly, then nodded.

"Hold on tight." With those final parting words, he let go...and just like that, I was flying.

I kicked my legs out straight, and I leaned my head back, letting the wind blow through my hair, like I always hoped it would. Joyous laughter filled the area, and it took me a few moments to realize it was coming from me. It just felt so g_ood._ I felt f_ree._

Warm hands seared my back again, gently, as he pushed me higher and higher. His bass laughter joined my soprano one, making my head spin. My heart almost bursted open with happiness, and I threw my head back, enjoying the feel.

Once more, Paul pushed me higher. I felt so powerful, so in control. But, there was still one more thing I needed to do.

"I'm going to jump!" I cried out. My hands released themselves from their iron grip, and I was flying. Up, up, up, I flew, higher and higher, making a beautiful arch. I shouted out, from the pure joy, and began my descent.

My feet hit first, and as soon as I felt my knees buckle, warm arms encased me, preventing me from falling.

_Paul,_ my thoughts smiled. Our combined weight caused him to slowly fall backwards. He adjusted my body at the last second, so our legs entangled, and I fell clear on top of his solid chest, opposed to the hard ground.

I gave out a startled laugh, which turned into full blown laughter when I noticed a ladybug perched on the end of his nose.

Without thinking about it, I reached both hands out, one to cradle his face, the other to encourage the ladybug to crawl into my palm.

"They're supposed to be good luck." I explained, at his quizzical expression.

He let out a laugh of his own, "Right. I knew that."

I rolled my eyes teasingly, and squirmed off his chest, the ladybug safely tucked into my hands. Paul sat up next to me, taking my hands in his much larger, much warmer ones. I jumped a little at the contact, so unused to people touching me.

I was always treated like glass. Something to be cleaned, examined, prodded, inspected, but never taken out of its case. Paul didn't treat me like that; he treated me like I was...regular.

_Of course,_ I reminded myself, _he doesn't know you're sick._

"Can I see?" He asked softly, his warm breath brushing across my face sweetly.

"Yeah." I said breathlessly.

I carefully opened my hands, still supported by his, and the ladybug crawled to the top of my finger, pausing a moment, almost to say goodbye, before spreading its wings, and zooming away.

As if on cue, Paul and I faced each other. His expression was one of wonder. My stomach flopped itself over as I stared into his deep brown eyes. A lighter brown circled around the iris. It was almost honey-colored.

I blinked rapidly as I realized how close we were to each other. I scooted myself back a foot.

"I should go. My mom's coming home soon."

Paul blinked and shook out his head, extracting a twig, "Right. Ok, Madison." Paul stood up slowly, as if he was trying to prolong our time together, before offering me his hand. I placed my hand in his, feeling the hot burn of his skin again, and he pulled my up to stand beside him.

"Well...see you later?" He asked hopefully.

I smiled up at him, a little confused as to why he was so..._interested _in me, but I let it slide, "Yeah. See you later." I nodded my head, mostly to myself, and I turned around back in the direction of my house.

I suddenly turned around, "Paul! Wait!" I had almost forgotten, "your jacket!" I made a move to take it off, but Paul shook his head.

"Keep it!" He called out, then waved to me, before turning back around and disappearing into the forest.

I smiled, trying to wipe it off my face, but failing miserably, and opened the back door. Just in time, too. The crunch of gravel alerted me to my mother's arrival.

Like a deer caught in headlights, I scampered up the stairs ripping off the jacket as I went. I didn't want to have to explain to my mom where it had come from. I could barely believe it myself.

Before climbing into bed, I stuffed the jacket into my bottom drawer. I pulled the covers partially over my head, and snuggled deeper into the bed, hoping I looked like I had just awakened from a long nap.

As I waited for my mother to open the front door, every few seconds, my eyes would drift to the bottom drawer, and I couldn't help but get that same goofy, stupid smile on my face.

* * *

><p><strong>pleeease review? PLEASE? this is my first twilight story, so i really need to know what you all think...anything i should watch out for?<strong>


	8. Chapter 7

_**I don't own anything to do with Twilight!  
><strong>_**sorry for the wait! to write this story, i literally have to be depressed, so i wait until i'm in a sad mood to write...unfortunately for you guys, i was pretty happy all weekend, so i blasted some more depressing music and got to work.**_**  
><strong>_**this is my story and i love you for reading it !(:**

* * *

><p>Chapter 7:<p>

Present

It's true what they say- that when you know you're going to die, your entire life flashes before your eyes. Only, for me, it happened more than once.

The first time it happened, it was the second day of third grade, the day I watched my mother weep. All I could think about then was how _young_ I was. I wasn't ready to die- I hadn't d_one_ anything.

The second time it happened, I was eleven. I still hadn't accomplished anything, but I was thankful for everyday I had lived. I still had that gut-wrenching panic. I was too _young._

The third time it happened, I was fifteen. Older, but still too young. I still hadn't done anything. But, like four years ago, I was still thankful for everyday I had lived. I knew time was running out, though.

The fourth time it happened was last month. The day the symptoms came back. This time, I hadn't had the initial _too young_ reaction. This time, I had almost seemed to old.

And the fifth? The fifth I had four hours ago. Only, this time I snapped. I was...pissed, actually. Mad, sad, frustrated, but most of all, determined. _I_ wanted to dictate when I would die, not my disease. I don't know why I hadn't thought of it before now. When I died, I wanted my heart to stop beating on _my_ terms, not because of this disease.

Stopping treatment twenty-nine days from now and letting the disease rot my body was no longer an option. The disease would still win. _It_ would still kill me. True, I wouldn't be in pain until the very end, but the symptoms...they would still ruin me, weaken me. I didn't want that.

To truly be free, I would have to end my own life, _my_ way.

~~OO~~

four hours ago

"What do you mean, the doctor has _left town?"_ I heard my mother hiss from the other room.

"I-I'm sorry ma'am, but-"

"_I don't want to hear it!" _My mom screeched again. "What the _fuck_ am I supposed to do? That's my daughter! She needs him!"

"Really, ma'am, Dr. Hi-"

"I don't want some 'Dr. Hinds' treating my daughter!" She spat angrily, "I want Dr. _Cullen!_ The doctor we traveled to this _godforsaken_ town for!"

I winced inwardly, feeling sorry for the poor receptionist my mother was currently verbally abusing. It wasn't his fault.

"_Please_ ma'am, if you would just relax,-"

I steeled myself for a new round of whisper-yelling. Nobody, or nobody who valued their life, ever told my mother to relax.

"_Relax?" _My mother let out a cackling laugh, causing the hair on my arms to rise from where I was hidden in the examination room, "Don't you _dare_ tell me to relax! I want Dr. Cullen! C-U-L-L-E_-N_!"

I have to admit, that last line did make me chuckle. My slight laugh was followed by a bout of remorse. My mother hadn't always been like this; rude and demanding. But, as my disease got more frequent, harder to put into remission, more daunting, she had developed a hard attitude.

In this kind of life, you either screamed for what you needed, or say back, waiting for someone else to remember what you needed. We had long since abandoned the sitting back and waiting policy.

"Mom!" I called out from the room, "I don't mind seeing another doctor."

It wasn't a lie. All doctors were 'by the book.' If you've seen one, you've literally seen them all. The only doctor I had come to respect had been Dr. Bradshaw. The only doctor I had ever encountered who told it to me straight. He hadn't babied me, he had told me the cruel, hard facts when I had asked.

"Are you sure, Madison?" My mother rounded the corner of my room and sat down beside me. In a hushed voice, she went on, "We can go somewhere else, baby. We can leave Forks and go to Carlin?"

Carlin, Nevada. It was second on our list, right after Forks. The doctor there was supposed to be a genius. However, he ranked second to the great Dr. Cullen, the doctor who was currently M.I.A.

My mom rushed on excitedly, "I bet they have all the answers there, Madison. Do you remember that experimental treatment they were doing?" My mom's eyes had a sparkle in them, not from untold possibilities, but from unshed tears.

And that's when it hit me. She _did_ know. She knew...she knew this was as hopeless as I did. She and her damn optimistic ways just refused to believe it. She would keep pumping me full of chemicals until I was a giant bio-hazard. She knew there was no light at the end of the tunnel.

I wanted to cry. I couldn't protect her like I had wanted. I'd failed miserably. My mother looked so full of false hope, false hope she knew wouldn't work...so she was full of fake false hope? Either way, I had never wanted this to happen.

My body felt like it weighed a ton of bricks. I couldn't fathom, how earlier today, I had flew so high on the swings. I didn't think I would ever be able to get that kind of flight again.

"No." I said firmly, "I like it here."

My mom's eyes widened, "you-like?" She let out a strangled half sentence, then shouted over her shoulder, "We're ready for Dr. Hinds now!"

Outwardly, I smiled. Inwardly, I couldn't stop the dead feelings from spreading. I blinked back tears, and sighed out, resigned.

I hadn't completely lied when I told her I liked Forks. It seemed like a nice place...despite the disgusting weather. I liked the forestry, I liked the...diner, I suppose. I liked the elephant on the front door. Other than that, I hadn't really seen what Forks had to offer.

As much as I hated to think it, Forks was a pretty place to die. I remembered seeing cliffs in the distance from when we had driven in. I remembered the flowers sprouting. The trees looked to tall, so green. My spirit would be happy here.

Dr. Hinds entered the room the way all doctors do; with that certain fast paced, 'I know your future' walk.

He was carrying my chart, looking like he knew exactly who I was. Another sting of longing wrapped itself around my heart. Dr. Bradshaw had walked in, wanting to meet me, Madison, not a number.

"Hello. I'm Dr. Hinds. You must be Madison." It wasn't a question. His voice matched his face- monotone. His eyes looked like a basset-hounds. Sad and pathetic. His hair reflected his boring ways too, seeing as it was a bland light brown. The lighting didn't even make it shine.

I took an immediate distaste towards him.

"Dr. Hinds." My mother, my ambassador, stood up, firmly shaking his hand.

I extended him the same courtesy, and all my speculation was proven true. He had a weak, clammy handshake.

I pulled my hand back, wiping it discreetly on my pant leg.

Dr. Hinds gave us both a weak smile and launched into his well-rehearsed speech.

I tuned out after three seconds. I had heard it all before and then some. I started out a badly placed window, giving me a perfect view of the parking lot. There were cars. There were people walking. There was pavement.

My hands shook and goose bumps covered the length of my body. _Not here,_ I begged myself. I always try to appear as healthy as possible when going to the hospital. Silly, right? I mean, the doctors _right there._ They know what's happening to your body even more then you do. But, still. Despite my reflection in every single mirror I had ever looked into, I was not weak.

Surprisingly, my body obeyed, and the shaking slowed down to a slight tremor. If you didn't know what to look for, it was almost unnoticeable.

I tuned back into the conversation.

"...and so if we continue on the regular course of action your past specialists have recommended we can start seeing results within two to three months from the current time of treatment thus being today if there are no objections stated prior to this conversation we can being as soon as possible seeing as Madison's body had rejected all else prior treatment and the symptoms have come back fully and no patience can be given to the severity of the returning symptoms there forth we do continue, with your consent, seeing as Madison is a minor, we can begin treatment..."

I tuned myself out again, completely amazed he was still talking. I hadn't seen him blink or breathe since starting the monologue. My mother's eyes were slowly losing their focus, and every ten words or so, she would sit up a little straighter, determined to pay attention.

I allowed myself a small smirk. Dr. Hinds was slowly eating away at my nerves.

"...and if there are no questions I think starting treatment now would be helpful to the patient, being Madison, so-"

I cleared my throat loudly and rolled my eyes, hoping nobody would notice. _Who else would the patient be?_

"So...can we start now?" I asked.

Dr. Hinds seemed taken aback, but nodded his head, calling a nurse into the room. He turned to my mother, "Your signature if required on several documents."

My mother ducked out with him into the hall, and I sat there, letting the nurse stick me with needles connected to an I.V.

"What's in that?" I said awkwardly. Making small talk was never on the top of my list.

"Hmm?" The nurse said, looking down on me, her eyes filling with a kind of pity, "Oh! That's your treatment sweetie!"

I recoiled, scrunching up my nose. I hated when people treated me like I was five. Most of the people I encountered in the hospital thought it was the first time I had ever been there. Then, somehow, because I didn't tell them, they would be let in on my dirty little secret. Their eyes would still be full of the same pity, but behind that was always wonder. _How was I still alive?_

Beats me if I knew. I didn't necessarily want to be.

I winced slightly at the sharp prick of the I.V. into my arm. I sat there, staring at the wall, as god knows what was being pumped into my body. The dead, heavy, sick feeling came mere minutes later.

"Oh god." I gasped out, clenching a hand over my mouth.

The nurse must have heard me, and whipped back into the room, staring at me. Bile threaded its way up my throat, and my body heaved once. I leaned over and vomited into the bucket that had kindly been placed next to me. It burned my throat horribly.

When I looked up, the nurse hadn't moved, and was still staring at me.

"What?" I said coldly. _Just leave me alone,_ my thoughts pleaded.

I spat once more into the bucket, wiping my mouth on a tissue.

"Are you feeling better?" The nurse asked sweetly.

I stared hard at her, willing her to fall over, to do s_omething_, other then stare at me.

"No." I said evenly.

The nurse blinked, then hurried forward to change out the bucket.

I wiped at my brow, removing the beads of sweat that had gathered there. Everything hurt again.

"I'm Madison." I told the nurse weakly. I had no idea why I introduced myself, but I did.

"That's nice." The nurse said pleasantly, before picking up my chart and leaving.

I sat there stunned, feeling like shit. I continued to stare at the wall. The more I stared, the less white the paint seemed to become. By the time my I.V. had finished, the wall hard turned into a sickly yellow color.

I discreetly wiped the snot from my nose, when Dr. Hinds and my mother came back into the room.

"How are you feeling?" My mom crouched down in front of me, wiping my short hair back from my face. I grabbed onto her hand.

"I'm fine." I lied. I wished I had the courage to scream, to beg her to never do this to me again. But, at my false statement, her entire face lit up.

"That's good, baby." There was so much emotion packed into those words. My mom's smile was huge and bright, and this time her eyes shined with happiness. Happiness for me, because I had sat through treatment, because I had given remission another chance.

_Maybe I was wrong,_ I mused, _maybe she really does believe this will work._

~~OO~~

two hours ago

I looked down at the small stub of paper in my hands. It had Dr. Hinds' messy scrawl on it. The next time I was due at the hospital was two weeks from now. "A week for recuperation, a week for healing." That's what Dr. Bradshaw had always said. Dr. Hinds had been different. He had just thrusted the paper into my hands, wishing me a good rest of the day.

I rolled onto my stomach, facing my headboard of the bed. I could hear my mom's nervous feet pattering around downstairs in the kitchen. She had somehow convinced herself I was hungry. I wasn't. I was never hungry after treatment. The mere thought of food made me want to barf.

I was relatively lucky, though. The pain I hadn't started yet. Dr. Hinds told me it might take several hours, since it had been a while since my last batch. I guess he did know what he was talking about...sometimes.

But, when the pain did finally come, I knew it would be horrendous. I only had so much valuable time left.

I turned my attention to the bumper sticker I had slapped on my headboard late last night.

Stop Bitching. Start A Revolution. I loved the saying. The bumper sticker was one of the only things I consistently carried with me, wherever we moved. The saying ran true in almost every aspect of my life, and I was applying it the day I turned eighteen.

I could sit around, day after day, complaining and in pain. Or, I could cut off treatment, and _live_, that is, until my disease cut my life off short.

The phone rang.

"Madison?" My mom called from downstairs, "I'm elbow deep in chicken. Can you get that?"

"Sure!" I called back, turning over, and swiping up the phone from my bedside table.

We always kept a phone in my room, just in case I needed one there. Cell phones, my mother always said, were unreliable. Land lines were the only way to go.

"Hello?"

"Hello, yes. This is Dr. Hinds. Is a Mrs. Kline there?" I froze like a rabbit in a trap. My entire body seized up. Why would he be calling?

The only consistent thought circling my mind was: What went wrong?

"This is she." I blurted. Half a second later, a deep guilty feeling settled into the pit of my stomach.

"Ah, well as I have already said, this is Dr. Hinds." He continued to speak, having no idea it was realy me. "I wanted to have a word about your daughter's condition."

"What went wrong?" I whispered brokenly.

"Nothing's wrong, per say. The treatment went along fine. It's just ah, I'm worried about her standard of living."

"Standard of living?" I repeated and my face paled.

"Yes." He paused momentarily, and I took a deep breath, feeling like my heart was constricting against itself. "You are aware of the nature of your daughter's condition?"

"Yes. Just say whatever it is you're trying to say." _Before I lose my nerve,_ I added silently.

"Uh, yes. Well, the treatment will most likely cause an adverse affect."

"An adverse affect." My voice was broken.

Dr. Hinds hurried on, "The treatment will do almost nothing whatsoever. The disease is too far advanced. It's spreading at a tremendous rate. The only thing I can prescribe you do for Madison is no longer worry about the longevity of life, but the quality."

Tears cascaded down my face and I held in a strangled sob. I sniffled hard, not wanting my mother to hear. Snot ran down my face and I wipped at it angrily. "Please continue." I spoke, knowing there had to be more.

"Ah, yes. Well, I recommend we stop all treatment."

"Stop all treatment." I repeated. My voice was empty, gone. Every beat my heart took reminded me I was still alive; that I still had things to do.

_Too young,_ floated across my brain.

Dr. Hinds' voice spoke again, this time hesitant, "Have you ever contacted the Make A Wish Foundation?"

I froze again, unable to speak. Dr. Hinds continued on, but I held the phone away from my ear, not wanting to hear anymore. I counted to ten slowly, expelling all thoughts from my mind.

_Make sure he doesn't mention this, Madison, _My brain ordered me.

I held the phone closer to my ear, and spoke rapidly, "I hadn't doctor, but thank you for the information. I'll think about what you have said, but I don't want you to mention this conversation again. I don't want to upset Madison. Goodbye."

_Hang up the phone,_ _Madison__,_ my brain ordered again.

I clicked the phone off, and threw it across the room.

"Who was that baby? You were on the phone for a while."

_Now lie, Madison. Lie._

My voice shook, "Just a telemarketer. I was messing with them."

My mom's laugh rose up to greet me, "You truly are my daughter." I could almost envision her shaking her head, wiping the humorous tears from her eyes.

_You can't lose it yet, Madison. _My brain chimed in once again.

I squeezed my eyes shut, and ran into the bathroom, closing the door gently behind me, then locking in.

I stared hard into my reflection's eyes. The sallow, scared, weak girl spoke as when I did, "You knew all along, didn't you? You knew this would be how it ended."

I studied my reflection, hating the way the girl's eyes mirrored mine. She copied me in everything I did. It wasn't _fair._

"I get the last laugh, bitch." I told her cruelly, "because when I die, so. Do. _You_!"

I fisted my hands, holding in my screams. I felt so claustrophobic. I needed to get out. I needed to get out _now._

~~OO~~

one hour ago

Sitting through dinner hadn't been hard. I was on autopilot, my brain telling me what to do. _Smile Madison, smile. _

_Put the fork into your mouth, Madison. Good. Now, chew._

_Swallow Madison, swallow._

It had gone on for twenty minutes. But, thankfully my mother hadn't been in a speaking mood. The conversation had been non-existent. Aside from asking me how I felt, (_Lie, Madison. Lie to her.) _we hadn't spoken at all.

Now, I was standing in the middle of my room, watching the sun set. My mother had gone to bed ten minutes ago, declaring herself exhausted. I couldn't blame her; hospitals always wore me out, too. But, not tonight. Tonight, I felt...weirdly alive.

And scared, terrified, petrified. Horrified. I was dying.

I've always known I would die. Ever since third grade, really. But, I never imagined death would be so _close._ Hearing Dr. Hinds reference the Make A Wish Foundation really put it in perspective. Time was running out, and unlike some movies, I wouldn't be coming back. I grabbed a dark sweatshirt out of my closet, and tiptoed down the stairs. The floor didn't register my slight weight, and stayed peacefully quiet.

Even outside was peaceful. I closed the front door quietly, pausing to wipe my hand over the elephant, and started walking.

I didn't have a destination, but I would know it when I saw it.

~~OO~~

present

I was currently sitting on top of the world. Ok, so technically a cliff wasn't the _top_ top of it, but it was as close as I would ever come.

I had no idea how far I had walked, and I only knew the generals of how to get home, but for right now, I didn't give a shit.

My body was achy, but the treatment still hadn't caused the terrible pain it always used to. It was coming though; like a storm you could see on the horizon. And when it did finally hit, the pain would be torturous.

I had stopped wiping at the tears streaming down my face. More would keep being replaced before I could fully dry them.

I let out another sob and curled up into the dirt, just letting it all out. I couldn't let my mother see me like this. She would have be hospitalized all the time.

A few minutes later, I crawled forward, peering over the edge of the cliff. The water below was lightly churning, and it was beautiful. The big moon just above me, reflected off every surface, making my pale skin glow.

A fresh wave of sorrow wracked my body and I expelled a strangled yell, sobbing loudly. This could very well be the last full moon I ever saw.

My head hurt from all the crying, as did everything else. My knees buckled beneath me, and for a fleeting second, I considered jumping.

This was the lowest point my life had ever taken, but I knew I wouldn't do it. Not tonight, anyways. Jumping to my death did sound appealing though. It would almost be like jumping off the swings. That delicious moment of pure flight would be the last thing I felt. The impact would most likely kill me. I was too weak to make it past that.

The disease would take me one way or the other, and I would be damned if I let it have that power. "I will jump." I whispered to myself. "When it's close to the end, I'll do it," I promised.

But tonight wasn't that night. I had months more of living, at least, I hoped it would be months. And I needed to say goodbye to my mother.

I carefully stood up, my legs shaking with the effort. I looked back out into the ocean, and closed my eyes, letting the sea water carried in the breeze wash over me. It would be a peaceful place to die, almost perfect.

"What are you d_oing_ out here?" A voice asked from behind me.

I squeaked and jumped around, my heart pounding. I leaned forward, trying to make out a face, and when I did, my mouth dropped open.

"_Paul?"_

"Yeah." He replied, then took a few steps towards me. He paused as his eyes raked over my face.

I wanted to cringe; I knew I had to look horrible. I had just spent the last hour crying my eyes out.

"What happened?" He asked in a worried voice.

A wave of fresh new tears sprouted and cascaded down my face, dripping. He sounded to caring.

"I just got some bad news." I answered vaguely. My voice sounded scratchy and choked up. "Why aren't you wearing a shirt?" I asked him, just because I wanted to change the subject.

Paul looked down at his bare chest, which was very well defined, and shrugged. "I'm just not."

I expelled a humorless laugh as more tears washed down my face, probably creating paths through the dirt attached to my cheeks.

Without a word, Paul rushed forward, pulling my body flush against his, giving me the one thing I needed: a hug.

I wrapped my arms around his back and let his warmth flow through my chilled body. I laughed again, slightly hysterical, and tried to pull away.

Paul was having none of that. He took a step back, his arms still wrapped around me, and rested his forehead against mine.

"Shh, it'll be ok."

That made me laugh again, and I closed my eyes, shaking my head, "No, it won't."

"Will you tell me what's wrong?" I had no idea why he cared so much, but it was strangely nice. I didn't want to be alone right now.

"No." I sighed. Paul's body stiffened momentarily, then relaxed again. More tears leaked out of my eyes, and I gave into them once again, sobbing quietly, my face tucked up against his chest.

Vaguely I felt him moving, and vaguely I felt myself resting more fully against him. When I opened my eyes a few moments later, I blinked to clear my vision, and found myself curled up in between his legs, my head resting against his chest. I sniffled, but it was useless.

Another wave of hysteria passed over me, and I choked on my spit.

Paul patted my back, holding me more firmly against him. "Just let it out, Mads. I'm right here."

I don't know how long we both sat there, Paul rubbing light circles into my back; me, crying on his shoulder.

Only when my body finally gave out from pure exhaustion did my tears stop. I sniffled, and pulled away, completely embarrassed.

"Sorry." I hiccupped.

Paul rested his head against mine again, and murmured, "Don't be. I'm always here for you."

I closed my eyes, and my head lolled back. I tried to stifle my yawn, but couldn't.

His statement confused my mildly. Had I been more fully awake, I probably would have picked it apart, searching for hidden meaning. But, right now, I was content to believe him.

"I want to go home." I whispered pitifully.

"Ok." Paul agreed easily, "Can I carry you?"

I nodded my head, trying not to fall asleep. Paul's arms wound around under my legs and lifted me effortlessly, cradling my small body against his much bigger one.

I yawned again. "Go to sleep, Mads. I'll get you home." Paul promised me.

"Don't tell my mom." Was the last thing I remember saying, before the blackness over took me.

~~OO~~

I opened my eyes slightly, feeling something cold against my skin.

"Shhh, honey, you're home." Paul's voice came from somewhere above me.

I groaned slowly, rolling myself over, getting familiar with my mattress.

A warm, soft pressure feathered across my forehead, and I closed my eyes again.

* * *

><p><strong>tell me whatttacha thinking? the most reviews i've gotten for a chapter is 7. i'm not a review snob, but i would really appreciate like..12 or so? :)) thanks!<strong>


	9. Chapter 8

**_I don't own anything to do with Twilight.  
><em>ok, cards on the table. this chappie isn't my greatest, i wrote it in like 20 minutes, not even.  
>my other chapters about halfway done, but it wasnt making sense...sooo, i wrote this, almost like a filler.<br>THANK YOU FOR THE AMAZING 20 REVIEWS! I LOVE YOU ALL SOO, SOO MUCH!  
>this is my story, and you know the rest (:<strong>

* * *

><p>Chapter 8:<p>

_People always say things come in threes. In my opinion, they always have, and they always will. My pain was no exception._

day one

Everyone has a breaking point. Everyone. It doesn't matter where you come from, or where you've been. And, I've been to a lot of places.

I was breaking. My body was contorted, in torturous pain. I wanted to die.

"Mom!" I screamed out, clutching my head. I leaned over the side of my bed, and dry heaved heavily. My stomach had long since been emptied.

"_Madison!" _My mother was crying, "What can I do, tell me how I can help you!"

The pain. It was everywhere; my entire body was consumed in flames.

I screamed out again, as another wave of pain hit me hard, causing my body to lurch. I gagged on my spit, and curled into a small ball, begging my heart to give out.

~~OO~~

day two

My entire body ached and cramped. I grabbed my stomach and moaned, shifting my weight on the bed I was still too weak to leave.

With a shaky hand, I wiped the sweat off my pale, cold face. I focused on my breathing.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

Out...

I stopped breathing altogether, holding my breath hard. My heart rate kicked up instantly, desperate for that new intake of fresh air.

"Breathe, Madison." My mother ordered from somewhere to my left, "It's not funny. Breathe!"

Her hand snaked out and wrenched open my jaw. I still didn't allow myself oxygen.

"_Breathe,_ baby. Don't make me do this!" She pleaded.

I closed my eyes, feeling my chest constrict. _Almost there,_ my thoughts smiled.

I heard a cap twist and squeezed my eyes closed tighter, just in time to feel the river of lukewarm water being dumped down my throat.

I sat up immediately, sputtering water everywhere, gasping for air. I coughed twice, the movement sending shoots of pain and soreness all throughout my system. I opened my eyes, giving my mother a reproachful look.

She was holding a water bottle in her hand, looking like a mother who had seen too many things.

"Don't do that to me, baby." She whispered harshly, "I _need_ you!" She wiped at her eyes, smearing the mascara across her face with tears. "I don't understand! You always do this!"

I leaned back down again, closing my eyes, and focused on my breathing.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

In...

~~OO~~

day three

I lolled my head to my left, looking at my mom. She hadn't moved from her spot since the pain had started, and it showed. New age lines littered her face, and her hair was a tumbled mess. She hadn't left me once...

A fresh wave of soreness washed over me. I couldn't remember how long I had been like that; crying out and in pain. I couldn't remember anything...the hours..the days?, they all clouded together.

The only thing I could remember was the pain- the pain and wanting to die. Everything else...was just gone.

My entire body still hurt. I sighed quietly, causing the pounding in my head to start. I was going to have to get used to that again. The treatment worsened my ever-present headaches to collassal proportions.

"Mom." I whispered.

Her body jerked awake and she sprang to her feet.

"Madison! Is it over? Are you ok? Do you need anything? I could-"

I cut in before she could finish, only answering her first question, "It's over."

She rushed forward, enveloping me into a mildly tight hug. She whispered words of praise and affection into my ears, and I blinked rapidly, hoping she wouldn't see the fresh tears of despair leaking out of me.

This would be the second to last time I would ever go through treatment.

* * *

><p><strong>like i said, not my best...a little hasty actually..but, more to come! <strong>


	10. Chapter 9

**_I don't own anything to do with Twilight  
><em>yay! another chapter! hopefully, you'll see why i needed the shorter one, if not...mah, two for the price of one, right?  
>this is my story and i love you for reading it (:<strong>

* * *

><p>Chapter 9:<p>

My mom walked by, ruffling my short hair, causing me to wince in pain, which I hid. "You ok?"

I nodded blankly, "I'm just surprised by the date. I don't really remember anything...then again," I added thoughtfully, "I never really remembered the other times, either."

My mother just continued to putter around the kitchen, busying herself with the breakfast I didn't want. She whistled a quiet tune and cracked another egg. She threw the pieces of shell away and turned back to me with a smile, her eyes bright, "I was thinking it's time for the triple R."

I bit back a laugh, "You would!"

Oh, the triple R. It was our way of saying Remodel, Remove, and Re-paint. Buying houses with the furniture already stocked was always risky. In Fabens, Texas, the insane woman who sold us the house forgot to mention her fetish with cows. _Everything_ had spots. Thankfully, we had been pretty luck with Forks.

My mom waggled her eyebrows at me, "You can be in charge of your own room this time. I know you didn't necessarily like what I did to it in Eureka."

I shuddered overdramatically, "You said the yellow would look good!"

My mom raised her eyebrows, holding back a laugh of her own, teasing, "How was I supposed to know it would react badly with the blue paint?"

"Mom! My room looked like a puke green mess for months!" I exclaimed.

My mom just shrugged, and flipped the egg in the pan. She placed it in front of me moments later, and kissed the top of my head. I thanked her quietly, and waited until she padded back to her room, before throwing the egg in the trash.

I wadded up a strip of paper towel, and placed it over the egg, knowing she wouldn't notice.

My stomach flipped again, and I closed my eyes, making sure to breathe evenly through my nose. It was too soon to eat, something my mom had never fully understood. Eating now would make me sicker, especially because I had consumed almost nothing for the last three days.

I threw my plate into the sink and walked over to the brown couch.

I sank into its comfy confines once again, and closed my eyes, resting my aching feet.

"Madison? I think I've located a hardware store. It's close to the diner we went too those couple times, remember? I don't think we'll get lost. I'm going to start the car."

I mumbled a fast, incoherent reply and hauled myself off the couch, pausing to admire the chandelier. It sparkled even in this dreary weather.

I walked to the front door, threw on my flip flops, and marched down the stairs towards the car, as fast as possible. Everything still hurt.

I strapped myself into the passenger seat and we were gone, pulling out of the driveway and to an untold destination, where apparently, there was a hardware store. Following directions was my mother's one and only flaw, apart from being overprotective, but honestly? I couldn't even blame her anymore.

Not after the last three days. The hell she must have gone through...I can only begin to imagine it.

I sighed contentedly as my mother hummed along to one of her favorites playing on the radio. I liked listening to her.

I closed my eyes, letting the sound of her melody wash over me. I tried to focus on the here; the now. It was all I had left.

~~OO~~

"What do you think of a 'Meadow' scent?" My mom called from across the tiny hardware store.

I wrinkled my nose, "Meadow? Like a field?" I held up my own candle in offer, "What about a 'cotton'? Whatever that means..." I mumbled to myself.

"Cotton? Don't the dryer sheets do that?"

I hid my grin, turning back down the aisle, browsing in the paint section. Combined, our knowledge on all things domestic roughly equaled that of a fourth grader. I picked up a decent sized brush and turned it over in my hands, feeling the soft bristles. I grabbed several more, throwing them into the cart.

All the different paint colors called out to me, begging me to choose them. I had always liked a light orange...the color reminded me of the sun. I put the can back on the shelf, and reached for the light pink beside it. After a few seconds of deep deliberation, I put that color back, and reached for the black.

_Why the hell not?_ I thought. This was my last chance, my last time to design my room how I had always wanted it. I was going to paint it how I had always envisioned in Eureka, but I talked myself out of it. Darker, more edgier rooms always made a home harder to sell...

Tears prickled the back of my eyes as I reached for the can of yellow paint, tossing it into the wagon next to the black and a stencil I had grabbed. _My last chance..._

I took a shaky breathe, and cleared my eyes. _Smile, Madison. This is a happy day, remember?_ My brain chimed in.

It was right...I needed to smile. I didn't want my mother to see me lose it again. Those three days...I shuddered at the mere thought of her seeing me like that.

"Madison, I'm up at the register!" My mom's voice drifted back towards me. I knew she was eager to repaint her room, too.

I shuffled my feet forwards, and dumped my items onto the counter. My eyes shuffled over the girl at the register. She looked so...normal. I swallowed loudly as I mentally compared my appearance to hers. I was too thin for words; she had nice round feminine curves. She had long, straight, shiny black hair, whereas mine was cropped and cut choppily. Her skin had a nice healthy tan...

"Can I wait in the car?" I tried to keep my voice as normal as possible, but I still heard the waver.

"Sure." My mother agreed easily, handing me the keys with a knowing look. She leaned in closer to me, and whispered in my ear, "Madison, you don't have to hide."

My face flushed; that was exactly what I was planning on doing. "I'm not hiding! I just need to sit."

My mom sent me another one of her cryptic looks, but handed me the keys. The last thing I hear before the door slammed shut was, "Hi! I'm Kim. Did you find everything ok?"

Good riddance, _Kim._ I mentally sneered the name; this girl was everything I wished I could be. She had her health, she had a job, she had...she had time.

On shaky legs, I walked to the car, and opened the door. I recoiled as a burst of hot air flew out of the car and directly into my face. There was no possible way I was going to sit in that oven.

Lifting a hand to fan myself, I slowly and carefully lowered myself to the ground, relaxing against the side of the car in the small patch of shade it offered.

I closed my eyes against the bright sun, alowing it to warm my face. Approaching footsteps made my eyes pop back open, but instead of finding my mother, my gaze landed on Paul.

"So." He said, his jaw clenching. "Where have you been the last few days?"

I blinked, confused as to why he would care. "I was..." I trailed off, looking for the right word. "sick...food poisoning."

His face twisted at my lie, but he sat down next to me anyways, our thighs touching. All at once, memories of the last time we had been together struck me. My face flushed as I remembered how I had acted...I had been so _weak._ And that moment of looking over the cliff...I shuddered once lightly, and Paul froze next to me.

"I'm sorry." I said quietly, not looking at him.

Paul didn't pretend he had no idea what I was talking about. He just nodded slowly, and placed a warm hand on my arm. My skin came alive at the small contact; it felt like ants were crawling up and down my arm, twisting and twining their way right to my stomach, where they pooled.

"Madison?" Paul asked. He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, almost like he was contemplating exactly how to phrase his question. "Do you want to go out sometime?"

My mouth popped open, and I blurted, "Did you just ask me out on a d_ate_?" I couldn't believe it, nobody had ever asked me out; nobody wants to date the dying girl.

Paul blushed mildly, and nodded sheepishly.

I wasn't sure what to say, and it must have shown on my face, for Paul quickly added, "Unless you don't want to? We can just be friends?"

I studied my feet, encased in flip flops, when a small movement caught my attention. I gasped aloud, wondering if this was my first hallucination. I blinked rapidly, clearing my eyes, and when the image didn't waver, I knew it was real.

I placed my palm on the pavement, allowing the tiny lady bug to crawl into my hand. "Look!"

Paul scooted closer to me, holding my hand steady in his, and squinted his eyes. "Is that a lady bug?" He asked, amazed.

I was slightly stunned, too. I couldn't help but remember the last time I had seen one; it was right after Paul had pushed me on the swings, and I had jumped off, feeling so, so a_live._

I raised my gaze to his and said evenly, "Yes."

Paul gave me a crooked smile, missing my point completely. "I thought it was."

I shook my head, and ignored the shaper thud in my skull that came with it. Paul's brow furrowed, "It's not?" He asked confused, "Are you sure? It looks like one."

"No! I mean, yes, it is a lady bug, but..." I trailed off, blushing hard, "That's not what I was saying yes to."

Paul tensed next to me, his eyes brightening with understanding, "You'll go out with me?" He guessed.

I couldn't say it again, so I just nodded shyly. I returned my gaze back to the lady bug in my palm, and focused on the feeling of its feet walking around my hand. Just because I didn't s_ee_ it, didn't mean I couldn't f_eel_ Paul's smile next to me.

I jumped a little as his warm hand squeezed mine gently. The lady bug walked along my thumb, right into his palm. We both watched as it completed its journey up his ring finger. Like last time, the lady bug paused before flying away, to say goodbye.

"Bye." I whispered. Paul turned his body, so he was looking directly at me. I stared back hard, trying to memorize the exact color of his eyes. In those few moments, I didn't feel like the girl I saw in the mirror- I felt like myself. My r_eal_ self.

And then, with the footsteps of my approaching mother, the moment was ruined. Paul cleared his throat, and jumped up, tugging me along with him.

My mom stopped short and scrolled her eyes very obviously over Paul's form, then zeroed in on our entwined hands. Paul hastily dropped my hand, and took a discreet step away.

"Mom, this is Paul. Paul," I waved a hand to my mom, "this is my mom."

My mom gave him a small smile, her eyes still darting back and forth between us, "Call me Dianne."

"Dianne." Paul shook my mom's hand. I still hadn't moved- I knew what was coming.

"So, Paul. How do you and Madison know each other?" And there it was.

Years ago, when I was starting to make friends again after my first few years of living with this disease, me and my mom came up with a system. She had one rule towards my new friends, and one rule only: if you're going to continue with the friendship for any length of time, they needed to know about my disease. That way, god forbid, if I had any kind of..._moment,_ they knew enough to call for an ambulance and tell them the basics about my disease.

I didn't always want people to know right away, and it gave my mom a chance to not let anything slip. I knew she didn't understand completely, but I also knew she respected it. Telling people always caused one of two things to happen. The first, my friend would treat me completely different, always checking to see if I was ok, or if I needed anything. I wasn't a soap bubble. True, I couldn't withstand certain things, but I wasn't necessarily going to pop at the slightest contact. The second was by far the worst, and it had happened twice. Both my friends gradually stopped coming over and calling, until they just didn't call at all. The truth had cost me two friends...if you can even call them that after abandoning me like that.

I hadn't told anyone since then. I wasn't as keen as my mother on letting people in. It was none of their business anyway.

My mom asking me how I knew Paul was a subtle way of her asking if he was aware of my disease or not. It was simple; the first word I answered with was the answer to her question.

I shook my head lightly now, "No, me and Paul go way back." I teased.

Understanding crossed my mother's eyes. "I see." She held up the bags in her hand, "Are you ready to get started?"

"Yep." I said quickly.

Paul looked between us, "started on what?"

"Re-painting."

"Oh, nice." He remarked, "You know, I painted my father's house for him."

My mom's eyes widened like she was looking at a piece of gold, "Really?" She practically squeaked, "do you know how to mix colors and tear down wallpaper?"

Paul shrugged modestly, "I've done it before."

My mom's eyes darted back to me, trying to gauge my reaction to the question I knew she was dying to ask.

Instead, I asked it for her, "Paul?" His entire body moved in my direction, and once more, I found myself lost in his honey eyes. "Do you want to help?" I asked timidly.

Paul smiled warmly down at me, "I would love that."

"Great!" My mom exclaimed. "Madison, why don't you sit in the back? Paul's...tall." He chuckled appreciatively, and climbed in the passenger seat.

I sat in the back next to the bags, mentally fixing my room how I always dreamed it would be. By the time we all pulled up in the driveway, my room was entirely done in my thoughts; now came the hard part- turning it into reality.

We all trooped out of the car, and marched up the front steps. My mom pushed past us both was a carefully placed look at me, warning me to be careful with myself. She picked up the paint she would need for her room, and hurried off, leaving us both to our own devices.

"I'll be in my room if you need me, ok?" She called back sternly. Then, without waiting for a reply, she was gone.

Leaving me alone. With Paul. Never in a million years had I thought that would ever happen.

"Nice...elephant?"

I looked up at him shocked, "You see the elephant, too?"

Paul grinned, not answering, and followed me up to my room with the remaining bags.

"You can just throw them anywhere," I instructed. I closed my eyes briefly, getting the mental picture I had created on the way here.

"So, what first?" Paul asked. He walked around the room, pausing at the wall with wallpaper.

"Yeah, can you rip that down? Or, however it comes off?"

"Sure." He said easily. Using what I'm assuming was superior knowledge and crazy muscle mass, Paul made ripping the wallpaper look easy. It all came off in one foul swoop, leaving behind a wall that looked bald.

I snapped my fingers, "got it!" I exclaimed, mostly for my benefit.

"Got what?" He asked, confused.

I smiled broadly, "my vision. Can you hand me the brush and the black paint?"

"Black?" He did as I asked, looking around the room. "I would have never pegged you for a black room kind of girl."

"I'm not...you'll see when it's done, I promise."

"I'll hold you to that." His voice was husky, and a slight shiver went down my spine. When Paul's back was turned, I snuck a glance at him. His muscles were clearly recognizable beneath the skin tight t-shirt he was currently wearing.

I blushed horribly at the memory I had of him _without_ a shirt on, grateful he hadn't mentioned it. I snapped my attention back to the wall, dipped the brush in the paint, and began attacking my room with a vengeance.

After several arm cramps and short break, I had come to the conclusion that I was too short. Paul was still working on the other side of the room, but while I worked slowly, he worked fast. He had finished two entire walls, top to bottom. I looked with dismay at my half covered wall.

I had only been able to reach a certain point, and the horrible off-white was still dominating my wall.

"Paul?" I asked hesitantly.

Paul brushed off his hands, and walked over, "Yeah?"

I gestured to the wall, and he chuckled, taking the brush from my hands. "Thanks. I'm going to open a window. The fumes are getting to me."

A gentle breeze flowed through the room, blowing my hair around, as soon as the window was opened enough. It felt amazing. I turned back to my room, and dropped my jaw in shock. Paul had finished the entire wall I had been working on for the last twenty minutes, and was now moving onto the fourth and last.

"How do you work so fast?" I demanded.

Paul smiled over his shoulder, cockily, "I already told you- I've done this before."

"Well, _yeah,_ but I didn't think you actually knew what you were doing!"

Paul winced theatrically, "Ouch, Mads." I secretly liked the stupid nickname.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, grabbing a second brush and stood next to him, hyper-aware of how close we were.

We worked that way for a while longer, until I couldn't reach any more white. Paul finished up the wall, save one spot on the top.

"You missed a spot." I pointed out.

"I know." He threw the brush into the bag, carefully so it wouldn't splatter and wiped his hands on his cut off shorts.

"You know?" I repeated, "I can't exactly reach that."

"I'll lift you."

I jumped back a step, pointing the brush at him, "Whoa! Why can't you just paint it?"

"It's not my room," he explained patiently, "_You_ have to finish painting it."

Paul cocked an eye brow at my defensive stance, and motioned for me to approach him. "Don't see why you just couldn't..." I grumbled, but did as he essentially wanted. I stood in front of him, raising my own eyebrow in confidence.

"Now what?" I asked innocently.

Paul winked at me playfully, then, almost too fast for me to see, I was in his arms. I squeaked and grabbed onto his neck, scared he would drop me.

"You actually picked me up." I stated astounded.

"Yup." Paul seemed pleased with himself, and raised me slightly away from his body so I could reach the wall. Keeping one arm wrapped securely around his neck, I quickly covered the spot.

Paul lowered me back to himself and, holding me with one arm, took the brush, dropping it in the bag next to his. I exhaled loudly, still terrified he would drop me. My body would bruise, even though I was only several feet off the ground.

"You're light." He commented.

I replied tensely, "That's great. Please put me down and don't drop me."

Paul looked offended I would even suggest such a thing. "I would never drop you!"

"_Please_." I begged, gripping his neck tighter still, "put me down!"

"Ok, ok."

Once my feet firmly hit the ground, I knew immediately something was wrong.

"_Shit." _I whispered.

My legs folded in on themselves, and I couldn't support myself. From past experiences, I knew this wouldn't last a long time; a few seconds at the most.

Paul's brow furrowed, and I closed my eyes against embarrassment. I still held onto his neck for dear life, and twitched my toes. It was almost done, I could feel it.

_Go away, go away, go away,_ I chanted.

"Mads?" Paul asked, worried now.

_Yes!_

I placed my feet firmly on the ground, locking my knees. "I, uh-" I cut myself off from finishing the sentence when I realized my arms were still joined around his neck, holding his face only inches away from my own. His pine like scent filled my nose.

My entire body was humming with alertness. I could feel Paul's hands skimming along my waist, and my breathing hitched.

Paul's face moved forward a fraction of an inch. I hastily pulled my arms back, stepping out of his touch, and walked around the room, admiring the new black walls. The room seemed smaller compared to before, but once I added the finishing touches, it would look fantastic.

My legs still shook. I had to sit down.

"So...? Is that it for the paint?"

"Uhm, no. Not yet. There should be yellow in the bag...and a stencil." I added unwillingly. I liked my idea, I had had this idea in my head for years now, but some smaller part of me wanted Paul to like it as much as I did.

"A stencil? Nice." He commented, pulling the items out.

"Are the walls dry enough?"

Paul walked by each wall, examining them for what, I didn't know. He reached out, rubbing a thumb over a small section. "I'd say yes. You bought the fast drying outdoor paint." He added with a chuckle, shaking his head.

"Fast drying _outdoor_ paint?" I repeated. A sinking feeling grew in the pit of my stomach, "Is that bad?"

"Not really...it's just unusual." He added, turning to me with a grin.

I rolled my eyes, and grabbed a couple of new brushes. I extended one out to him, "Want to help again?"

Paul eagerly took the brush, dipping it into the yellow paint, as I instructed him on where to add the designs.

We worked fast, littering everywhere but the ceiling with yellow stars. Each star helped transform my room from plain black, into a magical dark sky. We didn't talk at all, much to absorbed in getting each stencil placement exactly right.

When we were finally done, I felt as though happiness was leaking out of me. Paul let out a low whistle.

"This is amazing." He complimented.

I smiled a huge smile, swallowing back tears. It was perfect. It was mine; my vision.

"It looks exactly how I always thought it would."

Paul sat down in the middle of the room, and I joined him. One by one, we turned our bodies to each wall, examining our handiwork. At the fourth and final wall, Paul reached out and grabbed my hand, squeezing it gently.

"Thanks, Paul."

"It was my pleasure...as long as this didn't count as our date." He reminded me.

I giggled loudly, and, before I knew what I had planned to do, I hugged him tightly around his middle. He seemed surprised, but hugged me back instantly.

I hid the tears forming in my eyes, and held onto him like a lifeline. "Thanks Paul." I said again. He didn't know what he did, but he helped create something I thought I would never live to see. Happiness, pure happiness, joy, contentedness, and even peace warmed my entire body. It was perfect.

Truly and honestly perfect.

* * *

><p><strong>...i actually want to do that to my room so bad. LOVE YOU! (no, seriously, i really do. you guys are amazing!)<strong>


	11. Chapter 10

_**I don't own anything to do with Twilight.  
><strong>_**this chapter was a little harder for be to write, but i like!  
>this is my story and i love you for reading it! (: (no, really, i DO!)<strong>

****this is the same chapter! some people were having trouble seeing it (myself included...which is weird) so i deleted it and re-uploaded it. hope it helps!**  
>(thank you Charm 1997 and MadameGenji for reviweing! just in case they are deleted. i read and loved them!)<strong>

* * *

><p>Chapter 10:<p>

My stomach growled loudly, and I stood up, walking away from Paul across the room. A wave of claustrophobia overtook me then, and I breathed in short, shallow pants, trying to find some kind of relief.

"Hungry?" He asked me.

I nodded, knowing he could see it, and hurried out of the room. I didn't care that I was being rude, I didn't want him to see what I knew would happen next. I ran into the bathroom, slamming the door shut, and locking it fast. I gripped the sides of the sink, and threw my head back when the slam of pain I expected forced its way into my forehead.

My mouth dropped open in a silent scream, and I continued my desperate pants.

"Madison!" My mother called up the stairs, "My room is drying and it looks fantastic! I can't wait to see yours!"

She paused, waiting for my response- which never came. The pain, oh my god, the _pain_ in my forehead. I could barely concentrate on keeping myself standing.

"...Well, I'm making lunch if you want some. Tell Paul he's welcome, too!" Her voice was getting worried now, "Baby, are you ok? Why aren't you ans-"

"I'm _fine,_ mom!" I screamed, cutting her off. I just wanted her to shut up. Every word she spoke was a direct stab to my brain. My voice echoed around the bathroom, and I closed my eyes, whimpering. It was almost over, I could feel the pain slowly starting to subside.

I mentally counted to twenty, and opened my eyes. I turned on the faucet, and wiped my face off with lukewarm water, carefully avoiding my reflection.

I turned off the light, standing in the dark for a few seconds, then I gathered the rest of the strength, and opened the door.

Paul was standing directly outside the door and his hands were shaking. I eyed them curiously, then turned my attention to his face. He looked...he looked terrible, actually. His tan skin had a pale sheen to it, and his eyes were narrowed with what seemed to be pain.

"You ok?" I croaked out, taking a step backwards. If Paul w_as_ sick, I couldn't risk being near him. Any illness I caught now would cut my already short time by half.

"Are _you?"_ He countered, taking a step forward, to compensate for the distance which I had retreated. His voice was slightly panicky as he asked again, "Madison, are you ok? Do you need to go to the hospital?" His brow was creased with worry.

"_No."_ I emphasized, then shrugged, "I get headaches."

I could tell Paul didn't believe me. His hands were still shaking slightly and he spoke in a quieter voice then before, "You can tell me anything, you know that, right?"

_No, I can't. "_Thanks." I mumbled, then I inched my way past him, making my way down the stairs. I half expected him to grab me, from his protective expression alone, but he didn't. He did, however, walk directly behind me, making the little hairs on the back of my neck prick up in awareness.

My entire body felt ticklish.

"There you two are." My mom smiled at me, "how's the room? Is it pink like we talked about in Eureka? I can't believe you won't tell me!"

"It's not pink." My mom raised her eyebrows, looking back and forth between Paul and I. "I'll show you later," I promised.

My mom rolled her eyes playfully, then turned her back, stirring something in a large pot that I was immediately wary of. My mom wasn't a horrible cook, but she wasn't the best either.

"It smells great, Dianne." Paul complimented.

"Suck up." I whispered, teasingly at him.

Paul made an expression of mock-horror, "Me? Never."

I chuckled and shook my head at him, sitting down in a chair, giving my legs a rest. "What's for lunch?" I hadn't eaten all day, and I was feeling the lack of strength from it now.

My mom tensed in front of the pot, before sighing loudly. "Ok. I have a confession. I've been boiling seasoned water for about three minutes now."

Nobody moved, then, as if on cue, we all burst out in laughter at her confession.

"Boiling water!" I giggled, "Mom!"

She wiped a laughter tear from her eye and shrugged, "Ther- there was nothing else!" She gasped out.

Paul's throaty chuckle next to me made a warmness spread through my body. "We could all go out?" He suggested, looking at me, as if to gauge my reaction.

"Go out?" My mother echoed, "We can't. The cable company is coming in half an hour to install some kind of platter on the roof."

I blinked, grinning, "Do you mean a satellite _dish?_"

She waved her hand around, "Whatever it's called. The point is, Madison," she spoke to me, "we'll have to manage with whatever I come up with."

Paul stood up slowly, "Madison and I could go out," he offered carefully. He seemed to sense he was treading in deep waters, "and we could bring you back something?"

All at once, the mood darkened. My mother shook her head, "No." She said calmly, "I don't think so."

My cheeks flushed deeply, and I reached over, grabbing my mom's arm with a quick, "be right back" to Paul.

I could feel my mother's tension as I pulled her into her room, closing the door behind us, so Paul wouldn't be able to hear. "Can we talk?" I asked her.

My mom threaded a hand through her tangle of blonde waves and exhaled loudly. "I'm not being the bad guy here, baby. I trust you, I don't trust him!"

I tried to hold in my frustration, but bits of it were palpable in my voice, "_Please_ mom. I need to eat, and Paul obviously does too, since he complimented your nasty water."

"Madison!"

But I wasn't done, not even close, "You said you trust me." I stated, "Well, I trust Paul." And it was true. Since that first day, on the swings, I had trusted him. I had brought him into my thoughts, showing him what I had envisioned for my room. Not even my mother knew that.

"Baby-"

"_Let me finish!" _I whispered loudly, "please mom! _Please!_ This is..." I sucked in a breath, shuddering, "This is my last place to be normal. I'll bring my cell phone. I'll call you every ten minutes if you want me to!"

I was desperate for her to understand. My time was running out; every second was precious. For me, there was no tomorrow. I either did the things I wanted to do today, or miss out forever. And lunch with Paul was definitely something I wanted to do.

My mom stood there, hand over her mouth, tears in her eyes. She looked livid. "Never say that, Madison," She reprimanded, "this is _not_ your last place to be 'normal,'" She air quoted, "I love you and I won't let that happen!" She said fiercely.

I shook my head in defeat. I hated this. I didn't want to upset her. I cursed myself fully, wondering what had possessed me to say that in front of my mom.

"I'm sorr-"

"_And_," She cut me off, "I want you to call me every _five_ minutes."

I looked up, hardly believing my ears. "What?"

"I'm allowing you to go." She said stiffly. "You need nourishment, and my 'nasty water' is going to do more harm than good." I recoiled at her words, remembering how I insulted her lunch.

"Thank you!" I burst out, hugging her.

"I'm serious, Madison Kline." She said loudly, using my full name, which she almost never did. "I'm really trusting you, here. Please, please be safe."I squeezed her hard, then released my arms, taking a step back. "Grab your phone, and the emergency medication, and your hospital card, and the cash that I put in your top drawer."

I nodded at each one of her requests, still not believing this was real, and ran upstairs, passing Paul, who was still in the kitchen, to get my bag.

~~OO~~

Paul's Point of View

Madison didn't mean for me to hear the conversation with her mother, but thanks to my fucking wolf abilities, I heard every word. I felt guilty sitting there in the kitchen, listening to her plead to go out with me. Her mother didn't want her to go out, obviously.

But why? I was ecstatic when she told her mother she trusted me. But what did she mean when she said this was her last place to be normal?

My imprint was keeping something from me, something big. I knew that solely on the fact she had cried her eyes out on my shoulder that one night down at the cliffs. I had never felt so helpless in my life. And then disappearing for three days? I had stalked out the house in my wolf form, hearing nothing but her mother's worry and her pained pleas. At one point, I had gotten so worried, it had taken Quil and Seth to pin me down before I ran over the house, desperate to get to her.

She came bounding back down the stairs now, and I smiled warmly at her. I couldn't help it- it was an automatic response to seeing her.

"Ready to go?" I asked.

She nodded, before calling out a quick goodbye to her mom. I followed her through the front door, and I noticed she looked behind her, not to make sure I was following, but to glance at the hideous elephant on the front door. Interesting. I mentally tucked that fact away, excited to learn everything about her; all her quirks.

"So? Where are we going? I can't really wait that long to eat..." She trailed off, avoiding my gaze, which was leveled at her face. She looked so beautiful. Her short hair was tucked behind both ears, and her eyes seemed to sparkle, even in overcast weather.

"I have a place in mind. You're probably sick of diner food by now, am I right?"

She shrugged, and then paused. "How are we getting there?"

My eyes widened. _Fuck._ I had forgotten I didn't have a car. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem, but with Madison...let's just say I don't think she'd take it very well if I suddenly exploded into a giant furry beast.

"I could drive?" She asked nervously. The imprint tugged at my core, telli-_demanding_ that I didn't let her drive, because we could both tell she didn't really want to.

Funny, before I had imprinted, I didn't give a rat's ass about whatever my girl of the week wanted. I had always moved on pretty quickly, and getting to know their personalities was a hassel I didn't want or need.

"I'll drive." I assured her. "Will your mom mind?"

"Nope." She replied, popping the 'p.' "She hates mini-vans."

I was surprised, "Really? Then why do you have one?"

"She said it was time to get a 'mom car.'" She laughed, shaking her head. My heart damn near exploded at the happy sound. I lived to make her happy, imprint or not, I wouldn't be satisfied unless she was too.

I jumped into the driver's seat, all too aware I didn't carry a license. But, Madison didn't need to know that. With my wolf senses, I would be able to spot a cop miles away- literally.

I pulled away from the curb, and started down the allotted way to Emily's house. Emily was Sam's pregnant fiancé. She was one of the first people, besides Seth and Embry, who didn't count, that I had willingly told about the imprint.

Madison didn't speak like I thought she would have. Instead, she remained thoughtfully quiet. I glanced over at her every few seconds, unable to help myself, and her brow would be puckered, looking like she was contemplating something very seriously.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked her suddenly.

She jumped a little at my voice, and I mentally smacked myself for scaring her. I was such a dumbass.

"Oh, uhm...nothing." She sighed out and laid her head back against the headrest.

"Liar." I teased. She turned her head to be and cracked open an eye. In a flash, she stuck her tongue out at me, then turned her head back around, pretending like nothing had happened.

I smiled to myself, as I fell more deeply into her...essence; her being. She was my other half.

Hating the silence, but not wanting to ruin our silent ease with each other, I turned to the radio, flipping the volume on loudly.

Madison sat up at once, screeching like a cat, holding her head. I blinked stupidly, my heart in my throat. What the fuck was happening?

"Madison?" I shouted, fumbling for the volume. Once it was off, her little pants became more audible to me, and my hands shook. _Calm,_ I reminded myself, _Calm the fuck down, Paul._ Slowly, the shaking in my hands subsided into smaller tremors, and I raked my eyes over my Madison.

She was hunched forward, holding her head, rocking back and forth, still emitting little sounds of pain. I pulled the car over hastily, not caring who I was cutting off, and put it into park on the side of the road.

Carefully, I undid my seatbelt and leaned over to her. I gently reached out and ran a warm hand over her chilled arm. "What's going on?" I whispered. I was starting to panic; she still hadn't moved from her position.

"I'm fine." She whispered to me. "It'll pass."

Feeling completely helpless, I reached over and with my other hand and gently undid her seatbelt, and pulled her onto my lap. Her entire body was rigid, from some pain unknown to me, or from my actions I didn't know.

It felt like nothing was on top of me. That's how scary skinny she was. I was only beginning to notice now. Against my dark russet skin, her pale form stood out strikingly, which only terrified me more. Nobody should be that pale.

"Mads?" I tried again. She didn't respond, she just kept holding her head. I huddled her chilled body to mine, and pulled her flush against my chest, letting her soak up all 108 degrees I offered.

I rubbed her back softly, and after a few minutes, I felt her body start to relax against mine. She sighed, and pulled away then, her face bright red. Her stomach rumbled and she placed a hand over it, barely muffling the noise.

She sniffled once, and whispered, "Sorry."

That broke my heart- the fact she thought she had to apologize. If anything _I_ should be the one apologizing. No, scratch that, I should be down on my fucking knees, _begging_ her forgiveness. If I hadn't turned on the damn radio...

"There's nothing to be sorry for." I told her seriously. "_I'm_ sorry for turning the music on. Are you ok now?"

My chest was still tight with worry. I wanted nothing more than to cuddle her close, protecting her forever form whatever the fuck just happened.

Speaking of, I had to know. "What was that, Mads?"

Her body tensed, still perched on top of my thighs. "I get headaches." She sniffled again, and put a hand on her stomach. "Please don't ask anything else." She whispered, not meaning for me to hear.

But, I did hear. Her request tormented me. In one hand, I wanted to get to the bottom of whatever it was she was hiding from me. She _could_ trust me. In the other hand, I knew that if I pushed too hard, she would never want to tell me anything. She would feel like she couldn't trust me, because I would keep prying for information.

I nodded slowly, giving her what she wanted- this time. Sooner or later, though, she would tell me.

Relief flooded her face, and she momentarily placed her hand on my cheek, giving me a thrill, before climbing back into her seat. I didn't miss the trembling of her legs. Another stem of worry branched out, mating with the gut wrenching panic I was still feeling.

I pulled back onto the road we had been traveling and the imprint tugged at my core again. I carefully turned the mini-van back around, and started heading the opposite way. I knew Madison wasn't up to meeting new people, not after whatever had just happened. As much as Emily and everyone wanted to meet her, they would have to wait until she was ready.

"Weren't we going the other way?"

"Yeah, I changed my mind." I said evasively, "I think the diner would be better after all."

"Oh." Was all she said.

Oh? Was it a good kind of 'oh'? Or a bad one? Had I done something wrong? Did she feel like it was her fault we were no longer going to Emily's? Because it wasn't! I didn't blame her!

I struggled to convey that now, as I stammered, "Mads- Madison, I just thought that uh- maybe we should- it would be better to-"

She raised a hand wearily, and I stopped talking instantly. "It's ok, Paul." She turned to look out the window, struggling to keep her face blank. She spoke in a hard voice, "I get it."

My gut twisted. My explanation had done more harm than good. I growled out my frustration, "Madison. Really, I just figured it would be more comfortable. That's all." I said honestly.

She didn't answer, still fuming in the seat next to me. I felt like I was missing something- a big chunk of her life she didn't want to tell me.

After a few more minutes of silence, I was sweating. Madison still hadn't relaxed her pose, and she still refused to look at me. Every so often, she would bite her lower lip, and scrunch up her nose, like she was thinking about something serious again. Something she didn't want to tell me anything about.

"So...we're here." I said quietly.

She jumped out of the car without a backwards glance, and was already half way across the parking lot by the time I was out of the car. Inside Harry's Dinner I saw Seth and Embry.

_Great,_ I thought, _on top of everything else, now I get to deal with these fuckers._

I entered the diner, spotting Madison in the corner booth, looking out the window again. She always seemed to be doing that- looking out of windows. Like she was so desperate to escape the here and now. She seemed so sad...

I ran a hand through my cropped hair, and cursed myself. I had done that; I had put the sadness there, and now it was my job to remove it.

I sat down across from her, surprised I fit into the booth. One of her tiny hands was on the table, and I reached out for it, holding it delicately in my larger ones. "Madison, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. All you have to do is know that when you do want to talk, I'll be here to listen."

To myself, I wondered where in the hell that had come from. When my last fling, though I didn't think of Madison as a 'fling' at all, had been upset, I'd dumped a box of tissues on her lap and patted her back awkwardly.

I hadn't been sure what to say then, but with my imprint, the words seemed to flow naturally. Granted, it seemed I had to fuck up royal for the words to appear, but at least they showed up, right?

Madison looked up at me, her expression a mixture of awe and acceptance. "Thank you, Paul."

~~OO~~

Madison's Point of View

I knew the exact moment when Paul gave up. He walked into the diner and seemed to be arguing with himself. After he walked up and sat down, I held my breath. I wasn't sure what he would say. He had been keeping me on my toes our entire time together.

"Madison." He spoke firmly, "you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. All you have to do is know that when you do want to talk, I'll be here to listen."

I was shocked, to say the least. I hadn't expected him to just...quit that easily. Everyone who didn't know about my disease wanted too. They wanted to be on the inner circle, the select people who knew what tragic illness my body was battling.

Some of my friends had pleaded with me for weeks on end, but I still never told them. Others had made annoying guesses, hoping to break me. I didn't tell them either. But, not one of my friends had stopped when I asked them too. They had always kept going, and going, and g_oing._

Paul was the first who listened to me, a fact that awed me. I had known him less than a week, and he was already a better friend to me then my "real" friends, not that I still kept in contact with them.

"Thank you, Paul." I said.

He just shrugged. I could tell he still wanted to know, but the fact that he didn't ask meant more then I could describe.

My stomach gurgled loudly again, and a sharp pain attacked my middle. I sucked in a breath, noticing how Paul's eyes narrowed slightly. I shook my head; there was no way he could have heard that.

"Hey strangers." A cheerful voice spoke down to us.

"Seth." Paul nodded, his tone sharp.

"Hi Seth." I waved. Embry bounded up next to him, smiling down at me. "Embry!" I beamed back, genuinely happy to see him. He seemed like a fun person, and the last time we had talked, when my mom was trying to stop the car alarm, had been...memorable, to say the least.

"Madison!" Before I knew what was happening, Embry was seated next to me in the booth, giving me a warm hug, which I enthusiastically returned.

A loud growling from across the table made me wrench myself away.

"Is that _you?"_ I looked at Paul, shocked he was making that harsh sound.

He narrowed his eyes at Embry, and Embry held up both hands, scooting out of the booth fast.

"Paul!"

He snapped his eyes back to me, and they softened.

"What-"

"Anything to drink?" Seth interrupted me, looking back and forth between us.

"The usual." Paul spit out, staring him down.

"And for you?" Seth asked me.

I jumped slightly, looking down at the menu. "Uh...How about waffles? And...and the large mixed green salad to go." I ordered for my mother.

"Sure." He said agreeably. "It should be about ten minutes."

Seth walked away, dragging Embry behind him, leaving Paul and me alone. The diner seemed quieter by ourselves.

My forehead still dully throbbed from when he had blasted the radio, and I rubbed the worst spot where the pain seemed to be concentrating.

I gasped quickly, diving for my bag, having just remembered.

"What's wrong?" Paul asked worriedly.

"My mom! I forgot to call her, I promised her I would." I fumbled with the cell phone, punching in my mom's number to send her a quick text. I would be too uncomfortable talking on the phone with Paul sitting a mere two feet away.

I texted her saying that I was fine, and seconds later, she replied, telling me the satellite dish had just arrived, and that she was glad I was fine. She also added to call her if something happened.

I flipped my phone closed and threw it back into my bag.

"Does this count as our date, yet?" Paul asked suddenly, teasing.

I grinned back at him, waving my arms around the empty diner, "This is your idea of a date? Wow, I have a terrible taste in men." I noted. But, secretly, on the inside, I was flying. I had never been on a date before. I was flattered someone as good looking as Paul had chosen me, but I couldn't dissolve the small nagging in the back of my head. _What was in it for him?_

Talking to Paul was easier then I would have dared to hope. In those ten minutes, before the food arrived, it seemed like we covered just about everything. Or, just about everything that had nothing to do with anything too personal. We both kept to generic topics, like music.

Seth arrived with three plates of steaming hot food. My plate of waffles was dwarfed by Paul's "usual" meal. There had to be at least four hamburgers, two slices of pizza, a random cookie, and numerous side dishes, like hash browns and corn.

"Oh my g_od. _There is no way you can eat all of that!"

Paul seemed to take my statement as a sort of challenge, for the next thing I knew, food was being devoured at an alarming rate. Watching Paul eat was like watching an Olympic event. He didn't seem to pause for breath, he just inhaled everything on the plate.

My eyes popped open wider as he downed two sodas in a row.

"Done." He said happily, patting his flat stomach. I looked down at my plate of half eaten waffles, then looked back across at the two empty plates in front of Paul. "Want a waffle?" I asked him.

"Sure." He leaned over the table, snagging one, and shoved it into his mouth. It was gone in two seconds flat.

"I take it back." I muttered, "Apparently, you can ingest a million calories and not die."

Paul froze for a second, staring at me, then burst into laughter, with me right behind him. The giggles erupted out of me, making Paul laugh louder. I loved his laugh- it was so carefree.

He sighed a loud, content sigh, and yelled towards the back, "Alright. We're leaving now!"

Seth burst through the door with lightening speed, "Not without paying first, you smartass."

I felt Paul tense beside me, but a moment later he relaxed. "Yeah. Sure." He walked to the register, with Seth watching his every move.

Embry came out of the back, spotting me and walking over. "Let me guess," I turned to him, tilting my face up to see his much taller one, "Paul's skipped out on the bill once or twice before."

Embry snorted. "Once or twice? How about every single time."

I raised my eyebrows high, "This is the first time he's paid?" I asked in amazement.

Embry winked at me playfully, "You've changed him."

I opened my mouth, then closed it, not sure how to respond. Luckily, I didn't have to.

"Oh, shut up." Paul complained from the counter. "Are you ready to go home, Madison?"

"Oh, yeah. I guess." I didn't really want to, though. Being with Paul, Seth, and Embry made me feel less like a sick mess, and more like the girl I used to be. Seth and Embry hadn't given me any sort of special treatment, and Paul had laid off with the questions.

The last hour had almost given me permission to forget about my disease. Almost.

"Don't forget the salad!" Embry yelled out, running up to me.

"Thanks Embry." I took the salad from him, and looked around me carefully. Paul's back was turned as he continued on to the mini-van to start warming it up for me.

After deeming it safe, I flung my arms around Embry's middle, giving him a quick hug. He let out a surprised chuckle, before hugging me back. His warmth felt nice.

"See you around, Madison." He promised me, once I let go.

I waved back to him and jumped into the warm car. "Hi." I said breathlessly.

"Hey." Paul answered, smiling. He reached over and grabbed my left hand in his, holding it firmly, but gently, as he drove back towards my house. Ahead of us, the sun was beginning to set, and the sky was slowly being filled with different hues of orange and pink.

"It's pretty." I said, gesturing towards the sun.

"Yeah..." He trailed off, clearly wanting to say more, but he kept silent.

"You know?" I spoke rapidly, "I had a good time."

Paul jerked his eyes to meet mine for a second, before turning back to the road. I read his face like an open book and he seemed thrilled.

"Maybe we can do it again? Only, a real date this time?"

I thought my face would split apart from the force of my smile. "I would really, really like that."

We pulled into my driveway a few seconds later, and Paul insisted on walking me up to the front door.

I turned back to thank him, and recoiled slightly at how close his face was. His warm, sweet breath flowed across my face, and he spoke quietly, "I don't want to call this a date, because you deserve more from a date then _that._ But, I don't not want to call this a date, because that means I can't kiss you."

I sucked in a startled breath and my face flushed. I searched his face, not certain what I was looking for.

"So," He continued, "I'll call it a half date. That way," he leaned in closer, and my heart sped up, "I can half kiss you."

Paul didn't wait to see my reaction. He just brought his lips carefully down to my cheek, kissing it softly. He wrapped both hands around my waist, and hugged me gently to him, before standing up to his full height and taking a step backwards.

"I'll see you, Madison." Paul promised, then he walked away, into the sunset- literally.

I stood outside on the porch, my legs shaking slightly. I kept replaying the last few seconds in my head over and over again. Paul's lips had been like velvet, and they seemed to melt when they made contact with my skin.

I smiled hugely to myself, beaming with overwhelming happiness.

I allowed myself one minute of unbridled joy, before slowly dimming my smile. Once it was wiped completely off my face, I shook my hair out, and opened the front door.

The complications of what had just happened were exponential. My mother could never know.

"Mom?" I called out, into the house, "I brought you home a salad."

My mom appeared around the corner, and pulled me into a tight hug. "Baby, I was so worried. I knew nothing would happen, but still."

I patted her back clumsily, "It's ok. It's ok. I'm fine. I promise."

She took the salad from my hands, and ushered me up to bed, knowing I had to be exhausted. Exhausted barely covered it. I was so tired I couldn't see straight.

I flipped on the lamp next to my bed, and hurriedly changed into my pajamas. I crawled into the cool covers, and turned myself over on my stomach.

Next to the Stop Bitching. Start a Revolution bumper sticker, I had hung a small calendar. I crossed off today's date, and then flicked the light off, letting sleep take me.

23 days to go.

* * *

><p><strong>all the reviews have been amazing! i read each and every single one, so thank you all so, so much! maybe we can aim for like...17? if 39 people are getting story updates, i think 17 is a fair nnumber! :D thanks everyone!<strong>


	12. Chapter 11

_**I don't own anything to do with Twilight.  
><strong>_**this is my story, and i love you for reading it (:  
><strong>**this chapter is about madison being heard. she keeps telling me she needs to let it out, and i listened to her.**

****make sure to read the author's note at the bottom!****

Chapter 11:

It's sad, isn't it? How people become attached to things so easily destroyed. How people always _keep_ destroying, even though it hurts. Maybe...they think if they destroy enough, the pain will go away, making everything numb. ...Maybe.

My hand shook around the brush of paint I was holding. The can sat next to my foot, looking at me, mocking me.

I wasn't strong enough to do it.

The elephant hadn't done anything to me. It hadn't asked to be graffitied on the front door, only to be abandoned later. It wasn't the elephant's fault.

I gripped the brush harder, resolve pumping through my veins. I could do it. I _would_ paint over it. I pressed the brush to the door, a foot above the rainbow elephant. I closed my eyes, shaking slightly.

_Bring the brush down, Madison,_ my brain supplied. I felt the sting of fresh tears hitting my eyes. I inched the brush down, still nowhere near the thing I was being forced to destroy.

I liked the elephant. It hadn't asked for this...it didn't want this.

_Faster, Madison, your mother is coming. Bring the brush down,_ my brain ordered again.

_No!_ I mentally cried. I liked the elephant. It was comforting to me- we were both in the same situation, abandoned by our makers; left to fend for ourselves. We were both a burden. We both had to be fixed- re-painted, re-paired into perfect working order.

_Yes!_ My brain chanted, _do it, do it, do it, do it now!_

I turned my head to the side, not wanting to see what I was about to do.

In one flush, fluid movement, I dragged my hand down, severing the elephant in half with white paint.

I held the brush there, pressed against the door, my hand still shaking. I didn't move. Shock attacked my body.

_Oh my god._ I killed it. _What had I done? _

Fresh tears leaked out of my eyes, and I looked over it, to survey the damage. A small sob broke through my body, and I grabbed my forehead, as the tears sent a new wave of pain.

I sniffled loudly, choking on my spit, and took a deep breath to calm myself. The elephant still had that little grin on its face that I had only just spotted the day before. Only now, the elephant seemed to be grimacing in pain, rather than smiling.

A light breeze rustled my hair.

I counted:

One...

...Two...

...Three...

...Four...

...Five...

...Six...

I stopped at six, a number of no importance.

A hysterical giggle burst through my lips, and I dropped the brush to grasp my head in my hands. I couldn't stop the second burst of laugher, and before I knew it, I was staring at the elephant, my shoulders shaking with half laugher, half sobs.

I was hysterical.

I threw my head back, tears streaming down my face, and I looked up into the sky, still laughing. I shook my head, not to clear my thoughts, but to recognize the complete idiocracy of my entire situation.

I had become attached to a piece of graffiti shit.

"AAAHHH!" I screamed, the sound ripping out of my throat. I stamped my foot on the ground, my face damp with tears. The movement caused a few more to dislodge. My foot throbbed, so I stamped it again, and again, and again, in the same stop, feeling a sick satisfaction at the way my ankle cracked on each motion.

I fisted and un-fisted my hands, frustrated and claustrophobic beyond belief. The need to hurt someone was strong.

I exhaled loudly, the sound dulled by my sore throat, and I picked up the can of paint. "Fuck this." I said loudly and clearly.

I turned away from the elephant, and onto the front lawn. "Fuck all of this."

I pried the lid back off the can, and in one beautiful movement, sent the bucked flying.

The pain arched gracefully through the air, staying together. Then, as it began its decent, the globs broke apart, littering the front lawn in the white paint.

_What have you done, Madison?_ My brain spoke.

_"I'm living my life."_ I responded in a whisper.

The last sob I had in my choked itself out then, and I sat down on the stoop, exhausted.

"I'm sorry, elephant. You never did anything to me, and I killed you."

I put my hands down on my head, ashamed. The last tear squeezed itself out of my eye, and my face itched where it flowed down. My voice sounded like that of a child, as I spoke the words that rang true for the both of us, "You didn't deserve to die."

Because, in essence, I was already dead.

And I hated it.

* * *

><p><strong>ohmyfucking god. what a weird chapter, i honestly don't even know what came over me. i have a "real" chapter written, and it should be up in a couple days (that is, if i live past saturday), as soon as everyone digests this first. it's ok, you can say it-it's...STRANGE. hence, this is at the bottom. i didn't want anyone to feel turned off before even reading this.<br>i'm not even asking for a review. i've had a horrible, terrible week, and figured...madison needs to be heard, and this is exactly how i pictured her letting it out. **


	13. Chapter 12

_**I don't own anything to do with Twilight  
><strong>_**i really liked this chapter...hope you do too! after this, i'm going to start introducing madison to the pack, so watch out!  
><strong>this is my story and i love you for reading it(:<strong>**

* * *

><p>Chapter 12:<p>

**How much do you weigh today?**

_99 101.5__ 101._

**Do you have excessive kidney/stomach pain?**

_Not excessive._

**Have you thrown up in the last twelve hours?**

_No._

**Are you experiencing a severe headache?**

_Yes. No.__ Not Severe._

**Are you feeling depressed/suicidal?**

_Yes.__ No._

I threw the questionnaire back down onto the bathroom counter, before giving my reflection a nasty glare, then leaving heading back down to the kitchen.

I stopped abruptly at the end of the stairs, watching my mom through an open window. She was standing in the middle of the front lawn, a hand over her mouth, surveying the damage I had done with the bucket of paint. I was ashamed. It was never my intention to throw the paint like a two year old having a fit. But I was so frustrated, so pent in.

A storm was brewing inside of me, and I wasn't sure if I liked it.

I grabbed the milk and cereal, and sat down. My mom walked back into the house just as I was eating bite number four.

"Care to explain the front lawn?" She asked me icily.

I looked up from my cereal, shrugged, and went back to eating, even though my appetite had long since left me.

She threw her hands up with an exasperated "Madison!"

"What?" I challenged. "I didn't want to paint over the door, ok?"

"_Ok?_ What's happening to you? Why didn't you just tell me! The lawn looks ridiculous, the landlord's coming over in an hour, _and_ we forgot to get permission to paint at all!"

I closed my eyes, willing my temper to subside. My nostrils flared with the big breath I inhaled. "I'm sorry." I said evenly, "I didn't know the landlord was coming...and it's not my fault you didn't get permission." I tacked on meanly.

I dared a glance at my mom's face and a stab of guilt hit me when I realized she looked close to crying. I stood up and dumped my cereal into the sink. I silently promised myself I would clean it up later.

Without a backwards glance, I walked back up the stairs, slamming my room door behind me.

Resolve hardened my already bad attitude. I was going out.

The days on my calendar were clicking away with each foreboding red 'x' I drew. I knew, or rather I hoped, I would live a while past my eighteenth, when I ended treatment, but who really knew besides fate? No one, that's who.

I couldn't sit around and waste a day, not now, not ever. I wouldn't get those minutes back. I was working with a fixed contract.

And, since I had already made up my mind the day at the cliffs that _I, _not my disease, would end my life, the time was even shorter.

I shook my hair out, humming under my breath, and wrenched open drawers, looking for something to wear. The weather was how it always was- disgusting.

I took out a pair of old faded jeans and slipped them on. With a sinking feeling, I knew they were too big. "Crap." I whispered. I needed a belt...

I finished searching through the drawers, disappointed when I didn't find a belt, but thrilled when I discovered Paul's jacket. I had completely forgotten about it.

I held the fabric up to my nose, inhaling deeply. It still smelled like I remembered. Paul's piney, slightly spicy scent filled my nose, going right to my brain. I slipped it on, reveling in the feel. It was too big, going down to my mid thigh. I could have fit another person inside of it with me.

With one hand holding my jeans up, and another holding my body up, I made my way back downstairs, walking past my mom, who was still standing in the same spot.

"Do you have a belt?"

She jumped at my question, a small blush spreading across her face. After a moment of deliberation, I decided I didn't want to know what she had been thinking of. People liked their privacy, my mom included.

"Yeah, baby. Let me get one." She raced out of the kitchen and I sat down to pull on my worn converse.

She came back just as I was tying up my last lace, her brow furrowed. "Have you lost weight?"

_Lie!_

"No," I reassured her, "these haven't been washed in a while and the material is all stretched out."

"Hm. You would tell me if you were, though, right?"

"Of course." I lied again. I didn't experience the guilt and sadness I normally felt at lying to my mother's face. I wondered briefly if that was because I had gotten used to it, gotten better at it, or some horrible combination of both.

She sat down across from me, as I threaded the belt through my jeans and locked it at the last notch. A few more pounds lost, and I would have to cut a new hole. There would be no hiding it from my mother then...

"Is that a new jacket?" My mom asked, examining the item in question.

"Yup." I replied, popping the 'p.'

"Funny, I don't remember buying it."

"That's because you didn't."

My mother looked up at me, "Then where did you get it?"

"My friend." I replied simply.

"Your friend...who?" She hedged.

"My friend who lives here. What is this, twenty questions?" I said nastily. "God, am I not allowed to keep one thing for myself?" I accused her.

"Madison! I was only asking-"

I snorted loudly, hating the fact that I was being mean for almost no reason. "Whatever."

My mom stood up and the chair clattered down onto the floor behind her, making us both jump. "What's with you lately!" She yelled. Then, her voice got scary low, "Is it spreading? Is that what this is? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"NO!" I shouted, finally angry enough to yell, which is something I rarely did. "No, I'm fine! Don't you see? That's the problem!"

"What? The _problem?_ You w_ant_ to be sick?" She yelled back.

I groaned loudly, holding my head in my hands, not from pain, but from exasperation. "Just shut up!"

My mom let out a strangled gasp, taking a step backwards, partially tripping over the chair. My heavy breathing filled the room.

After a few tense seconds, I spoke calmly, "I'm going out. I have my phone."

"What? No!" She cried out, "Where are you _going_?"

I ignored her questions, pausing with my hand on the front door knob, and said quietly, "Goodbye Mother."

I didn't look back as I slammed the door and jogged as fast as I dared to go down the driveway. I didn't look back as I walked across the street, and I didn't look back as I started down the paved road.

Only after the house left my sight did I allow myself to _feel_ again, and what I felt wasn't good. I felt sick, and it wasn't because of my illness. I still couldn't grasp the fact that I had been so cruel to my mom- the one person who had always stuck by me.

I had been mad, sad, frustrated with myself and I had taken it out on my mom. She had scarified her entire life, her entire future to look after me, and _this_ was how I chose to repay her. I had yelled at her, for no reason!, then stormed out of the house.

God, she was probably worried sick.

Still, a small part of me, and I mean a very small part, felt a kind of excited jubilation at doing what I did. Even though it was wrong, I was mildly proud of me for giving myself a...an opportunity to live.

I flipped open the phone I brought with me and checked the time. It was a quarter past 6. The night was still young, and I was going to make it count. After making sure, for the third time, that the volume on my phone was turned on, just in case my mom called, I slipped it back into my pocket.

I was still feeling a slight high from my actions, when a car pulled up beside me.

"Mads!"

I stopped walking abruptly, a smile growing on my face. It was a voice I had come to recognize- and enjoy.

"_Paul! _What are you doing out here? I thought you lived on the reservation?"

He opened the passenger window open further, so I could see his face, and replied, "Yeah, that doesn't mean I can't escape sometimes, right?" I chuckled and rolled my eyes. I knew all about escaping.

"Hey?" He spoke again, "You want a ride?"

Old Madison would have hesitated. I knew she would have. Old Madison would have thought carefully if her illness was in check today, and she would have thought about worrying her mother.

But, I wasn't Old Madison anymore. She left the moment I stormed out of the front door in a blind rage. Thinking back, Old Madison left the second the front lawn got covered in white paint.

I was New Madison. And frankly, New Madison didn't give a damn, which was why I didn't hesitate at answering Paul's question.

"Yes, thanks. This is a lot easier then walking to...wherever the hell I'm going."

I jumped into the truck, closed the door behind me, and sighed contentedly. My legs really did need the rest.

Paul smiled hugely at me and pulled away from the side of the road. I squinted my eyes at him, "What is this?" I teased, gesturing to his bare chest. "You better close the windows. The old people will talk." I laughed at my terrible sarcasm, reveling in the feel of not caring.

So what if Paul thought I was weird? It wasn't like he would remember me after I was gone, anyways. He would keep on living his life, and I...I would be gone.

"Hah, no. I just run a little hotter than normal."

_Yes, you do,_ I thought wickedly. "Oh, I guess that makes sense." I didn't mind looking at Paul's bare chest. In fact, I found I rather e_njoyed_ looking at it. I had never seen a six-pack before, and I was delighted that I would get to drool over one before I died.

His muscles seemed to glow in good health through his tan skin.

My eyes traveled up to his face, and I blushed severely as Paul stared back at me, somehow still managing to keep the car straight.

"What?" I mumbled defensively, crossing my arms over my chest. I stared out the widow pointedly, worrying I had made the wrong choice in letting him drive me to...where ever we were going.

I still hadn't forgotten about his promise to take me out on a date- and there had been that kiss... It had been on the cheek, but so what? It was amazing.

"You're wearing my jacket." Paul stated after a few more tense seconds.

I froze in the seat, my legs tensing. "Oh...uh, you can have it." I started to unzip the front, but a warm hand stopped me.

"No, don't. I said you could keep it, and I still mean it." I nodded, zippering it back up. "Besides," he said seriously, "you're freezing!" Before I knew it, Paul had somehow managed to pull my body across the bench seat right up next to his massive warm one.

I didn't move, at all. This was all new. I had never had a boyfriend- never. My disease never allowed for it...

I scoffed angrily at myself, and Paul stilled next to me, which I ignored. I focused on my inner thoughts, wondering how many times in my life I had denied myself something because of my disease. A relationship, to start. A stable home? Long gone. Friends? If I counted my mother, I had...one.

Paul obviously, for some crazy reason, liked my company, and possibly even liked me. I was pretty sure I liked him, too.

"Sorry." Paul spoke rapidly, "I, uh- I mean, you seemed cold, and I run hotter than normal, which I already explained, and I just uh, figured, I mean..."

I blinked and ended my inner monologue. _Screw it,_ I thought, and snuggled closer to Paul.

"You're cute when you ramble incoherently." I complimented him.

Paul chuckled anxiously, but wrapped an arm around my back, holding me to him. "And you're just cute. Period." He cleared his throat, and I glanced up into his eyes. I loved their color. All different layers of brown, with a honey center.

"So, where are we going?" I asked.

He shrugged, "Anywhere you want to go?"

I contemplated my answer. Did I have somewhere I wanted to go? And then, it hit me.

"I want to catch fireflies."

~~OO~~

When Paul said he knew the perfect spot to catch fireflies, I didn't realize he meant he knew the _perfect_ spot. I was walking in paradise, literally.

We were in a clearing in the forest. What seemed like a million little purple flowers surrounded us, sprouting here and there, forming amazing patters and shapes. The sun, which has been dimming, was now just barely hanging onto the sky, as it dipped below the horizon. A few stars here and there started to sprout, and I threw my head back, looking at them.

"How'd you find this place, Paul?"

He shrugged uncomfortably, then sighed. "Before my mom left, we came here once." He said simply. It was obviously still a tender subject for him.

"I'm sorry." I said quietly.

"It's ok. It happened a long time ago."

I walked back over where he sat, almost invisible against the growing darkness. I sank down next to him, then reached out slowly and took hold of his russet hand.

His flesh seared me, which made me hold on all the more tightly. He squeezed my hand lightly. "It's almost time. They should start to light up any second."

"Ok." Was all I said. I leaned my side against him, started to feel the chill in the night air. Paul's jacket protected me from most of it, but my face and one hand that was not being held were starting to get cold.

I surveyed the area, hunting for a spark of light. A moment later, I saw my first. "I see one! I see one!" I'm not ashamed to say I squealed like a small child. Paul didn't make me feel embarrassed about anything, or at least, he hadn't yet.

I jumped up, ignoring the sharp pain it caused me. Tonight was not a night my disease would dictate.

I pulled on Paul's hand that I refused to let go of, and he stood up next to me. He smiled down at me, and his teeth glowed in the mild darkness. Even the small purple flowers had a mystical glowing quality.

"Come _on!"_ I pulled him forward, almost tripping over my own feet, as we ran into the middle of the field.

What had started off as one firefly quickly became hundreds. They were everywhere! Every few seconds I would have to open my eyes wider, in order to take in the massive amounts.

Paul and I danced around the clearing, every other minute, each of us would shout out a gleeful exclamation at how many more we had caught.

Since we didn't bring a jar, every ten or so fireflies I caught, I would run over and dump into Paul's baseball glove sized hands.

Paul's booming laugh called over to me, "Mads! You have a couple in your hair."

I giggled back, "I feel it! Get it off, get it off!" Paul jogged over to me, and crouched down so we were about the same height.

He looked down at his hands, then back up at my hair, then back down at his hands.

"We should let them go, just like the ladybug."

Paul nodded, and dropped to his knees. His hands were not directly in front of my face. I smiled wryly at our height difference.

Gently, I wrapped both hands around his, and on the count of three, he opened them.

It was beautiful. We were both instantly showered in glowing lights, flying off. It had a dazzling effect. Paul's face reflected my same look of wonder, but instead of looking at the fireflies, he was looking at me.

"Does this count as a date?" He whispered, leaning a little closer.

I swallowed loudly. "Maybe. Why?" I asked, thinking I already knew the answer.

"So I could do this." Paul's face was now inches from my own, and I leaned in marginally.

Paul adjusted his angle at the last second, so he was pressing his lips against the corner of my mouth, not my lips. My eyes went wide at the contact, and I sighed softly.

It ended a second after it began, but it was a second I wouldn't change for anything.

"I should get you home." He sounded like he wanted to do just the opposite.

"Yeah..." I agreed.

We silently brushed off the fireflies still attached to us, and Paul grabbed my hand as he lead me back to his truck.

The ride back seemed shorter than the ride out to the field, and before I knew it, we were back at my house. Neither of us had yet to speak. We each didn't want to be the ones to break the comfortable silence.

Paul opened the door for me, and walked me back up to the front door, still holding my hand.

Just as he was about to turn away, I stopped him. "Paul."

"Yeah?"

I took a deep breath, and shut my eyes. _Live your life_, the words seemed to float across my brain, yet they couldn't be any truer.

I opened my eyes slowly, and took a step towards him. I threaded an arm up his forearm, caressing his bicep, before landing on his shoulder- the closest to his neck I could reach.

I pulled down on his shoulder at the same time as I raised myself up on my toes. Paul got the message, smiling big, and wrapping both arms around my waist, pulling my body against his.

This time, when Paul leaned down, and I leaned up, he didn't adjust his angle. This time, the kiss was full on the lips. And this time, I returned it.

His lips pressed against mine deliciously. He parted his mouth slightly, before pulling back, breaking the contact.

We were both breathing hard. Each pant he took made my heart expand a mile.

"I'll call you tomorrow, ok?" Paul promised.

I nodded against his chest, where my head rested, before taking a step back. "I'm holding you to that." I smiled.

He chuckled, then turned around and headed back into the driveway, leaving me alone to face my mom.

I had forgotten about what I had done, so lost in the time I spent with Paul. I heard his truck drive away, and headed into the house, closing the door and flicking on the light.

I heard the T.V. on in the living room, so I headed there. I found my mom passed out on the brown couch, asleep. A half drunk glass of wine rested on the table, next to a bottle of pills.

Carefully, so I didn't wake her, I grabbed the bottle. The pill description hit me like a slap to the face. The pills were anti-depressants.

"Oh, god." I whispered, staring horrified at my sleeping mom. The prickle of tears started. I picked up the remote to the T.V., going to turn it off, but the screen stopped me.

Only now did I realize what my mom had been watching.

I watched myself on screen, no older then four, with my mom.

_"Mommy! Look at dis!"_ My younger self exclaimed. We were sitting at the beach, and in between my chubby legs was a startled hermit crab.

_"Yes Madison! I see it! Look at that. Oh, be careful now, it could bite you!"_

I stared at the screen as my mom and I played with the hermit crab, the waves roaring in the distance. I had forgotten that day... I had forgotten I had lived a life before I became sick.

This video had been taken before my diagnosis, that was clear. We both looked so happy, and my mom. God, she looked so young. She would have been 23 in this video, because she was 36 now.

I sighed, dragging a hand through my hair, feeling helpless. The tears were coming in earnest now, dripping down my face as I fisted the pill bottle. How long has she been on them? How long had my mom been depressed? How long had I failed to notice she was that unhappy?

She sacrificed everything for me...everything. And what had I done? I had walked out when she clearly needed me tonight. I felt sick.

I put the pills back down on the table, and turned the T.V. off, leaving my sleeping mom and I in the dark.

I wiped the last of my tears from my face. I bent down and swiftly kissed her forehead. I pulled the blanket that had slipped off her feet back over her, so she wouldn't wake up cold later.

"Goodnight, Mommy. I'm so sorry. I love you."

I kissed her forehead again, and went upstairs to my room, wanting nothing more than to forget the last three minutes of my life.

* * *

><p><strong>i worked my little butt of for this one! haha, soo...let's see, if about 59 people are getting e-mails about this story (which, btw, i'm FREAKING OUT ABOUT ! :DDD) i think asking for about 20 reivews is fair! whatcha think?<strong>


	14. Chapter 13

**_I don't own anything to do with Twilight.  
><em>there's this one song that really helped me right this. it isn't 100% applicable to the story, but i love it anyways  
>it's called: Arms by Christina Perri. I don't think she's that well known, which is a shame, because i love all her songs.<br>you should definetly check them out!  
>this is my story and I love you for reading it (:<strong>

* * *

><p>Chapter 13:<p>

Paul's Point of View

Did it count as stalking if you were stalking your soul-mate? God, I hoped not. I had already heard more about Madison than I was supposed to. The last thing I wanted her to think was that I'm following her, too. Which, I guess, _technically,_ I was doing.

I was currently sitting in a small patch of woods, a good distance away from her bedroom window, listening to her get dressed. I, and the human me this time, was supposed to be picking her up for the bonfire tonight.

When I called this morning, asking Madison if she wanted to go with me, it had been an instant yes. My heart had damn near exploded with joy, and I've been sitting here ever since. It was times like these I was glad I was the only one phased.

I didn't want the pack to hear me like this...practically dancing from the happiness of hearing my imprint breathe.

I idly wondered if she felt the imprint connection like I did. I had outright laughed in Sam's face when he described the pain of being away from Emily. I hadn't understood...I didn't think anything could have been that strong...

Only now did I truly understand. I needed Madison. I needed her or I would go crazy. She was my world. She was _the_ most important thing in my life.

I crooked my head slightly, adjusting my view into the kitchen, so I could read the clock hanging off on the side. The bonfire started at 7, and it was...

I repressed a groan. It was barely 6 now.

Fuck. Me.

~~OO~~

Madison's Point of View

"And where will this bonfire be again?" My mother asked for the umpteenth time.

I refrained from snapping at her, remembering the pills I had found. She deserved better from me. How I treated her yesterday was atrocious. I hated what I had done to her, but most of all I hated how I hadn't noticed.

"Paul didn't mention it, but I think around ten?"

"Mhm."

Her "mother-hawk" mode was still in play. I knew that no matter what I said, what I did, she would be worried about me. She was always worried about me, always having to see if I was ok. She never had a moment to herself.

I briefly wondered how her life would be different once I was gone. Would she date? Would she be happy without me? I hoped so; I really hoped.

"Is that what you're planning on wearing?" She asked me critically.

I looked down at myself, confused. For once, I was dressed nicely. Sure, my jeans were a little loose, and yes, _maybe_ the white shirt I was wearing had been better days, but so what? I didn't think Paul would care what I was wearing.

"Why?" I asked suspiciously.

My mom looked me over, shaking her head slightly, "You _so_ did not inherit my sense of fashion."

I let out a startled giggle, looking over her dusty jeans, mismatched socks and ratty sandals, "_What_ sense of fashion?"

My mom winked at me, "Exactly."

I rolled my eyes, "Great. Sarcasm."

My mom squeezed me to herself and wiggled me around, just like when I was little. She reluctantly released me and maneuvered my body so I was standing in front of her. "Seriously, you need a jacket, a hat, and gloves if you think I'm even going to let you out of my sight."

"Gloves?" I said sadly.

My mom nodded once, "Gloves."

Twenty minutes later, I examined myself in the mirror, and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach. I looked like a fool. I had allowed my mother her way, and I was severely paying for it.

Paul was due here any second, and I was wearing two jackets, warm fleecy socks, and a black hat with a -_gag-_ pompom. Not to mention the gloves I had stuffed into my jean pockets, with a promise of how I would put them on later.

"I can't believe I'm witnessing your first date."

I turned around slowly, plastering a fake grin on my face. My mom didn't know this was technically _not_ my first date, and I planned on keeping it like that. Just by the look on her face, I knew what was coming. Moments later, I was not disappointed.

"Madison, I need you to be careful."

I studied the floor, my gaze hunting for dust bunnies, "I know, mom."

"If you start to feel bad, if you feel a m-_moment_ coming on, I need you to call me and I will come and get you. Or have Paul take you home."

I had found one. The little dust bunny was hiding behind the lower shelf, half obscured by my mom's other set of sandals. "I know, mom."

"I'm trusting you here. I know I sound like a broken record, but I love you so much." I winced as the pills entered my mind again. My mom's love for me was depressing her. "And that means I want you to be s_afe."_

My eyes widened slightly as I took in the huge dust monster halfway across the room. I could only see part of it, because it was under the brown couch, but the part I did see easily dwarfed the dust bunny still hiding behind the shelf.

"Look at me." My mom ordered.

I took a deep breath, and leveled my eyes with hers. I repeated the words I had spoken so many times before. I repeated the words that had ruled my life. I repeated the words that, for the first time, were going to be a lie. My disease would no longer rule my life.

"I'll be s_afe._ Safe meaning no drugs, no alcohol, no pills, no un-filtered water, no strange foods. If I get a scratch, I'll clean it." My mom raised her eyebrows, pressing me for more, "If I fall down, I'll test my bones before I get up. If I feel anything wrong with my bones, or any other part of my body for that matter, I'll rest, sit down, and if that doesn't work, I'll call you. If I feel faint or nauseas, or if I have a _moment,_ I'll call you, too."

She still wasn't satisfied. "You're missing something."

My cheeks flushed for a moment, before I forced them to clear. "I'm not going to have sex. I'm not stupid." I reminded her.

"Sex could kill you Madison." We both flinched at her harsh words. My mom's face paled slightly, as if she couldn't believe what she had said; what she continued to say, "Same with diseases of any sort. You catch one and it's over."

I nodded my head dutifully, wishing she would stop. I knew I was going to die, I _knew_ that. I knew my mother knew, but hearing her say it like that- so factual. I wanted to protect her.

Her anti-depressant pills flashed through my mind once again. I had already failed.

My mom tapped her foot, "And...?" She hedged.

I looked her square in the eye, and lied, "I won't kiss anyone, either."

She let out a puff of breath, relieved, "Good."

The doorbell rang suddenly. The chimes seemed to echo around the house. Each tone reminding me that Paul was here, and that I had _already_ kissed him.

~~OO~~

Paul's Point of View

I fucking thought that last hour would never pass. The time had eaten away at me. Each tick of the clock seemed to mock me.

But finally, f_inally,_ it was time. I bounded up the front stairs, trying to keep the smile off my face. I didn't want Madison to get nervous at how excited I was.

I rang the doorbell and waited six antagonizing seconds, before the door opened, revealing my everything.

"Hey Mads." I beamed, my heart swelling at seeing her. I glanced over her body fleetingly, keeping myself in check. Despite what certain parts of my body wanted, Madison wasn't ready for a physical relationship, which I respected. I would never force her. The mere thought made me sick.

"Hi Paul. Bye mom!" She called over her shoulder, before grabbing my hand and practically pulling me back down the driveway.

"What's the rush?" I asked, pulling her to a stop.

Madison tugged my arm feebly, "Let's go?" It came out as a desperate question, rather than a statement, which irked me.

The imprint tugged on my core, demanding I follow her instructions. "Yeah, sure." I complied easily, giving her what she wanted.

I took a few more steps, before pulling her to another stop, this time for reasons completely different.

Madison turned around, "Wha-" She broke off when I leaned down, angling my head for a kiss. She had no idea how much I had missed her. Every second of every moment I was away from her was torture.

"_No!"_ She moaned out, in a loud whisper. I backed off right away, standing to my full height, my insides crumbling. What had I done? Did she not want me like that? It was hard to believe after last night, but not impossible. She was allowed to change her mind. It would break me, but I wouldn't force her to be with me.

She tried to tug her hand out of grasp, and I felt a shoot of pain go up through my body. I released her arm like a hot coal, and tried to clear the emotions off my face. I didn't want to startle her with how much her rejection was hurting me.

"Let's just go." Madison took off for the truck, and I followed her, my heart in my throat.

She climbed into the truck, adjusting her hat, and leaned back against the seat. I jumped in next to her and started the truck, then headed off towards first beach, where the bonfire would be held.

I was actually apprehensive about bringing my imprint to the bonfire tonight. Half of me wanted to show Madison off proudly. The other half wanted to smother her in bubble wrap and hold her on my lap forever, making sure nothing could ever hurt her.

The emotions were conflicting, to say the least.

I cleared my throat awkwardly as I pulled the truck up to first beach. We hadn't spoken the entire ride.

"We're here." I announced loudly.

Madison's beautiful green eyes popped open and looked at me, startled. "Sorry, I think I was a little out of it." She smiled at me, making me heart contract, "Thanks for inviting me, Paul."

I nodded stupidly, and went around the truck to help her out. "Come on, I'll introduce you to everyone. Although, you already know Seth and Embry."

I hesitated, not sure whether to grab her hand or not, remembering earlier.

_Screw it,_ I thought, before grabbing her small hand gently in mine. I needed to be touching her; she grounded me. A small piece of me smiled in victory when she didn't pull away.

In fact, Madison didn't resist me at all as I led her down a darkening path. The sun was just beginning to set. It was perfect timing, if I say so myself. I knew my Madison liked sunsets, because she had commented on one before.

The path dumped us out onto the beach, and we walked over to the group. Everyone was already seated around Billy in a circle, the bonfire roaring high, eating enormous amounts of food. My stomach growled as I inhaled the delicious scents of Emily's cooking.

"Hey! Paul, Madison!" Embry ran up to us, ignoring me, and enveloping my imprint into a massive hug, which she returned. I waited patiently for about half a second, then growled softly, knowing Embry would hear it.

He let go instantly, and Seth ran up, "Madison! Long time no see," he smiled, before giving her a lighter hug then Embry had.

I gave Seth a dirty look. I knew he was hugging Madison to annoy me.

"Come on, Mads." I said tersely, pulling her away out of Seth's arms and away from Embry, towards the rest of the pack.

Emily met my eyes, and jumped up immediately, shushing Sam, who had been talking to her. "Paul! I take it this is Madison?"

I felt Madison tense beside me slightly as Emily and little Claire rushed up. Claire, being three, didn't fully understand the situation, and ran up to me, yelling, "Unca Paw! Unca Paw!"

I bent down swiftly, knowing Quil would kill me if I didn't catch her, and lifted her easily, "Hey Claire!"

Claire's face scrunched up as she looked at Madison, "Who's dis?"

I chuckled, "This is Madison." I couldn't keep the pride from leaking into my voice. I turned to Madison, taking in her smile, "Madison, this is Claire."

"Hi Claire. It's very nice to meet you."

"Fhank you." Claire said modestly, making Madison giggle. "Down, Unca Paw!" Claire yelled, whacking me in the face with her ringlets of hair.

"Ok, ok kiddo." I said quickly, placing her on the floor. I watched as she ran to Quil across the circle snuggling up to his chest when he held her.

"My niece is modest, isn't she?" Emily chimed in, walking forward.

"She's adorable." Madison answered, matter of fact.

"This is Emily," I introduced them. I felt Madison still beside me when Emily's scars came into view. I had forgotten to warn her about them, but to Madison's credit, she recovered quickly.

Emily smiled, "It's very nice to meet you."

"You too." Madison said easily, "How far along are you?" She gestured to Emily's stomach, which bulged out hugely.

"Oh, god. Eight months. I wish this sucker would hurry up, though. I miss seeing my feet!"

Madison joined in as Emily laughed. "Do you know if you're having a boy or girl?" She questioned.

"Sam's hoping for a boy." I supplied.

Sam came up behind Emily then, wrapping his arms around his wife's pregnant stomach. The amount of love emanating from them, before I imprinted, used to scare me. I never thought I could feel that amount of pure emotional love towards one person...until I met Madison.

"Speak of the devil..." I muttered, lowly enough so only Sam could hear me. "This is Sam. Sam, this is Madison."

"Hi." She said shyly. Sam smiled at her, still wrapped up in Emily.

"Oh!" Emily burst out suddenly, "The food!"

"What? There's _more?"_ Madison questioned me, astounded.

Emily tugged Sam, waddling away towards the many grills that had been set up.

I winked at her, patting my stomach, "We're big eaters here on the Rez."

~~OO~~

Madison's Point of View

I sat back against a log in the sand, staring at Paul with horror in my eyes. "How much more food can you _possibly_ eat?"

Paul shrugged and kept attacking his third plate of food. I understood now why Emily had prepared as much as she had. Although, I had given up after half a plate...which Paul finished for me.

I turned to Kim, watching her watch Jared with a similar disgust. She turned to me and I made a face of mock-horror.

"I know!" She whispered back.

Jared growled playfully at her, around his mouth of food, and pulled Kim against his side, sighing. I pointedly looked away across the fire. Even though the gesture had been innocent, it was still too intimate for me to watch. I felt like a voyeur.

My view from across the fire wasn't much better. Sam had Emily in his lap, and he was whispering into her ear, causing her to blush mildly. I blinked my eyes fast, settling my gaze on Quil and Claire. By far, this was the most baffling 'couple' I had encountered so far.

It was obvious Quil adored Claire, and vice-versa. I just found it strange. But, I couldn't deny it was cute, too. Quil was lying down in the sand, with Claire peacefully asleep on his chest. He was idly tracing patterns across her back, staring at her with the most profound expression on his face.

I jerked my eyes back my hands, painfully aware of how close Paul's body was to mine.

I regretted not kissing him earlier when I had the opportunity. I had been so afraid my mother had been watching out the window, and after the conversation we had just had, I didn't dare make any more contact with Paul then necessary. But now? I wanted nothing more than to lean against him.

Paul growled suddenly, standing up, glaring at two new people who seemed to be walking our way. Jared stood up a moment later, followed by Sam. Even Billy wheeled himself forward. Quil, Seth, and Embry were the only ones who didn't move, although they all seemed tenser than before.

"Jacob." Paul spat out, walking a few steps forward. I noticed he was shaking slightly. "What's s_he _doing here?"

The boy, Jacob, came into view, tugging a girl behind him. "I invited her, Paul. Back off!" He growled back.

"Enough." Sam said loudly, standing up. Sam turned to Paul, giving him a look, one I didn't understand. "Bella was invited."

Paul cracked his knuckles, and snorted. "Right." He said sarcastically.

I studied the girl, wondering what exactly was happening. Things seemed to be flowing easily until Jacob, and Bella, was it?, entered the picture. I watched as Bella brushed some hair behind her ear, and wrapped her hands around her middle, like she was holding herself together.

I knew the feeling.

Jared leaned over Kim and I, and placed a hand on Paul's shoulder. He leaned in and whispered something that I didn't hear. It seemed to calm Paul down slightly and he sat back down next to me. This time, his arm wrapped around me shoulders almost protectively.

Protective or not, it still felt nice.

Paul buried his face in my neck, making me jump. His nose was hot against my chilled skin as he inhaled deeply.

"You're freezing." He accused.

I shrugged, "I'm fine. I'm always cold."

Paul raised his eyebrows, giving me a look of disbelief. "Come here." He whispered.

Before I could object, Paul pulled me in between his legs, pressing my back against his chest. I blushed deeply, feeling the muscles in his chest.

My mother's parting words echoed in my head, but I shoved them out, leaning myself against him more firmly. This is where I belonged. For right here, right now, I would damn the consequences. I wiggled myself deeper in between his legs, relaxing my body.

The final burst from the sunset disappeared then, and I listened, enthralled, as Billy began to speak the legends I had never heard.

~~OO~~

Paul's Point of View

I was only half listening to the legends I knew to be true. I was too busy feeling the weight of my imprint against my chest. She felt like she belonged there. Her small body was a perfect fit.

I rested my chin on the top of her head, loving how I felt a shiver go down her spine. I wrapped my arms around her, entrapping her in my embrace. I sighed contentedly, my earlier temper long forgotten.

She had done that- only Madison.

That's all Jared had to whisper into my ear- her name- and I was calm. I couldn't lose it in front of her like that again. I hadn't been close to phasing. But, I had been close to storming across the circle and ripping Bella's goddamned head off.

This bonfire was for imprints and pack only. The leech-lover was nothing. It was bad enough sharing Jacob's thoughts about how much he worried about her now that her precious bloodsuckers had abandoned her here. Having her in my presence was salt to an open wound.

Bella had no idea what she was doing to Jacob. Or at least, I didn't think she did. If she knew Jacob was in love with her, and acted how she did anyway, then she was the biggest bitch I had ever set eyes on.

The _pain_ in his thoughts. Especially since he knew Bella didn't love him. But he hoped; oh, how he hoped. It was horrible to listen to.

Emily belonged here. Claire and Kim, they belonged here. Madison belonged here. Bella didn't.

I snuggled my imprint closer to me, which stopped the slight tremor in my hands.

When the legends were over, I felt Madison stretch out, then immediately relax back against me.

"Did you like them?" I whispered to her.

"Mhm." She nodded, closing her eyes. I chuckled, and stood up with her in my arms, cracking my back.

"Paul!" She squeaked, wrapping her hands around my neck. "I can walk. You do know that, right?"

"Of course." I answered, knowing it would annoy her.

I was right. A little pucker formed between her eyes. "Then let me walk?" She suggested.

I pretended to contemplate an answer, but Madison trying to wiggle out of my arms sealed the deal. I put her down carefully.

"The legends were amazing. The way Billy spoke..." She trailed off, looking out into the ocean, "it was just really thought provoking."

"Thought provoking?" I asked, surprised. I wasn't sure where she was going with this, "How?"

"The way the third wife sacrificed herself for...the greater good." She explained, not looking at me.

I was still puzzled, "What do you mean?"

"How she put Taha Aki's needs before her own." Madison clarified, "How...she did what she needed to do, regardless of how it would work out for her, to help the people she loved." Madison shook out her head, and pushed her short hair behind an ear. "It just reminds me of something, I guess."

"Something like what?" I tried one last time. I wanted to know Madison, I wanted to know exactly what she was thinking.

Her eyes met mine, and I saw a fire in them I hadn't seen before. "Personal sacrifice." She said kindly, "I'm talking about personal sacrifice, Paul."

My heart constricted, "Wh-what?" I choked out.

Madison shrugged, "It's nothing." But I could still see it in her eyes. I knew it was _something. _"I just thought it was brave."

Madison walked a few paces away from me, and took off a shoe.

"What are you doing?" I asked her.

She smiled innocently at me, and then bent down to remove the other one, peeling off both socks as she went.

"Seriously," I said, knowing what she was planning to do, "the water's freezing. You could get sick!" I burst out, the thought having just occurred to me.

I recoiled slightly at Madison's expression. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. Something wasn't right here. The same fire that was in her eyes when she talked about the legends returned now, "I don't give a shit if I get sick. I want to put my feet in the water."

"Whoa, ok. I didn't mean anything by it, I swear." I said, wondering how on earth I had caused this change in her, "I just don't want you to get a cold or something."

She smiled at me, a big beautiful, broken smile. "Live a little, Paul. Life is short. Come with me?" She asked, then turned, starting for the water.

How could I refuse? She was my everything.

I stripped off my worn shoes, and chased after her, catching up to her in seconds. I could hear her breathy laughter, and I chuckled.

Madison ran into the water, going up to her knees, soaking her jeans. She reached down and grabbed a handful of water, throwing it at my chest.

"Hey!" I laughed, "Now you're asking for it!" I jumped next to her, causing a large splash to soak us both.

She cried out joyfully, wetting her hands again. This time the water went onto my head, something I expected.

I grabbed her by the waist and lifted her out of the water, spinning her around, loving the sound of her shrieking laughter.

The moonlight reflected off of everything, making her pale skin glow. Madison's eyes lit up, and I lowered her back into the water. She was pressed against my chest.

Her eyes connected with mine, and the imprint tugged at my core again, begging me to protect her. From what, I didn't know.

I leaned down slowly, the earlier rejection still fresh in my mind. There was no hesitance this time. Madison raised herself up on her toes, and wound her hands through my short hair, tracing a thumb over the back of my neck.

I mirrored her movements, fisting a hand in her soft hair. Our lips met a moment later, and I shut my eyes, enjoying the feel of her lips against mine. I slowly opened my mouth against hers, brushing my open mouth across hers.

She whimpered in response. It was enough. I sank my lips against hers harder, and I framed her face with one hand, while the other circled her back, holding her chest to mine. I stooped down lower, opening my mouth further against hers, sucking on her bottom lip delicately.

My heart pounded in my ears, as did hers. I could hear her fast heartbeat, and memorized the sound.

A few seconds later, she pulled away, breaking our sweet kiss.

"Paul." She whispered, her lips brushing mine slightly as she spoke.

"Madison." I sighed.

Like a runaway train, I felt my heart and soul reach out, surrounding her, and I felt myself slip a little further into loving her.

* * *

><p><strong>sorry if that Bella scene seemed a little harsh to any of you, but it WAS paul's POV, and he's never been her biggest fan. what'd you think of the chapter? it was a little hard for me to write, just from the sheer amount of characters at the bonfire. did you like? xx<strong>


	15. Chapter 14

_**I don't own anything to do with Twilight!  
><strong>_**i'm really second guessing myself on this chapter, and it was the hardest i've yet to write. if you don't like it, constructive crisicism is a good thing! mean comments are not! (that's the FIRST time i've ever written anything like that in an author's note, so now you really know this chappie has me freaked)  
>remember! dianne is madison's mother.<br>this is my story, and i love you for reading it!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 14:<p>

Dianne's Point of View

I glanced at the clock again, nervously tapping my foot in time with the ticks. I should have never let Madison out of the house. It must be freezing.

Had I sent her with enough extra clothes? What if she wasn't warm enough? My eyes narrowed and I tried to remember the last time she had eaten.

I sighed and looked out the window down the driveway where she left. It was getting dark outside...

What if she couldn't see where she was walking and fell? My stare bored into the clock, wishing it to move faster.

It was 8:17...she had left at 7.

"She's fine, she's fine, she's fine." I chanted to myself, tapping my foot against the kitchen floor with more force.

_But what if she wasn't?_

I stopped tapping. Paranoia flooded my body.

"She's fine." I tried to convince myself. The tapping resumed.

Why hadn't Madison called? I told her to call! Worry stabbed my heart like a knife to the flesh.

I glanced at the clock: 8:19.

I groaned and collapsed my arms onto the kitchen table. Why did I let her out with that boy?

I didn't trust him! What if he was being rough on Madison? What if-

I was startled out of my thoughts by the phone ringing.

_I knew something was wrong!_

I lurched out of the chair, not giving it a backward glance as it clattered across the floor.

I ran into the living room, half scrambling over the couch, grabbing the phone.

"Hello?" I cried frantically, "Hello? Madison! Hello?"

A voice I didn't recognize answered back, "Ah, no."

I dropped the phone onto the floor, relief spreading itself through my body. My heart pounded in my ears, and I tried to stop my gasping for breath.

I plopped down onto the couch, sinking a few inches into it. With shaky hands, I reached for the phone.

I cleared my throat, "Sorry about that. May I ask who is calling?"

"Hello, Mrs. Kline. This is Dr. Hinds."

My brow furrowed, and I wondered why he would be calling. It had been too long since Madison received her treatment for it to be anything regarding that. Maybe he was just checking up...? Dr. Bradshaw had done that more than once.

"It's Ms. Kline, actually." I corrected him. "Why are you calling?" I asked.

"Ah, well, it's been a while since we last talked on the phone, and I was curious-"

"What do you mean since the last time we talked on the phone?" I cut in sharply, "You've never called here before."

Dr. Hinds' baffled voice reached my ears, "Ms. Kline, we talked several days ago."

"No..." I said slowly, wracking my brains for any possible clues as to what he was talking about, "I've only spoken to the hospital receptionist."

"Actually," He replied, "I'm quite certain we've spoken regarding your daughter's condition."

"What about my daughter's condition?" I snapped out frantic, "Did something happen? Is she going to be ok?"

"Don't you remem-" He broke off suddenly, and I held the phone away from my ear, checking the connection. It was still intact, and I brought it back to my ear just in time to hear him groan, "Oh, _Madison_."

"What's going on?" I asked suspiciously. "I'm _positive _we've never spoken before."

"Ms. Kline, I believe I have to explain a few things." He started, clearly uncomfortable.

A sinking feeling entered my stomach, and I leaned back into the couch. "Go ahead."

My expression turned from baffled, to shocked, to terrified with each word Dr. Hinds spoke. My hands shook as I listened to the horrors my daughter had already been privy to knowing. A hundred disturbing thoughts circled my mind, and black spots danced before my vision.

I closed my eyes and focused on each breathe I took. I let my mouth hang open, hoping to bring in more air. I felt like I was suffocating, like a plastic bag had been placed over my head.

"Ms. Kline? Are you still there?"

My voice cracked, "Yes. I'm still here."

Dr. Hinds' mournful voice buzzed in my ear, "I'm sorry you had to find out like this. If you want, we can schedule an appo-"

"Dr. Hinds." I spoke, my voice steadily growing louder, "I can count on each finger and toe the amount of times doctors have said they're _sorry._ I don't want your goddamn sympathy!" I yelled now, "I want a_ fucking cure!"_

I clicked the phone off and threw it across the room, watching with satisfaction as it cracked.

I broke down then, holding my head in my hands, sobbing loudly. Tears burned my eyes and made streams through my make-up as they raced down my face.

"Oh _god!" _I cried out, "_Please_ God, if you're there, if you care at all," I begged, choking on my spit, coughing hard, "save her. Save Madison! She doesn't deserve this!"

Snot ran down my face as I mourned for my child.

"_She doesn't deserve this!"_

I got up on steady feet, and stumbled toward the kitchen. I wrenched open a bottom drawer, reaching behind a dusty vase to where I had hidden my anti-depressants.

My shoulders shook as I fumbled with the cap, trying to remove it.

"GET OFF!" I screamed at the cap, at its refusal to be removed, "Get the shit off the bottle!"

"_Argh_!" I yelled out in pure frustration, and slammed the bottle down onto the floor, where I sank to my knees, folding myself up into a ball.

When my body tipped sideways, I didn't stop myself from falling over onto the cool tiled floor. I could barely breathe around the snot and panic in my throat, and coughed once more.

My hands shook around the pill bottle and with my last bout of strength, I pitched the bottle across the kitchen.

They wouldn't help me anyway. Nothing could help me. Nothing could help Madison.

_"Madison," _I moaned out, my voice breaking. I latched my hands into a prayer position in front of my face, and whispered the pleas I had whispered every day since discovering what was happening to my baby.

I whispered the words that I truly believed had kept her alive so far. As I kept whispering, I wished with all my heart they would save her again; I wished they would send her a cure.

* * *

><p><strong>thoughts? i'm so nervous about this chapter and how it'll go down with all you guys! and this will most likely be the only chapter in dianne's point of view.<strong>


	16. Chapter 15

_**I don't own anything to do with Twilight  
><strong>_**i'm baaaaaaccckk! i'm really, really sorry it's been such a long time. i don't really have any exscuses i know you'll want to hear, so maybe just understand that i've had a pretty hard few months, but, finally, here is chapter 15! read the author's note at the bottom, because one bit may confuse you- a lottt.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 15:<p>

_I rested my chin on my hands, a small smile on my face as I looked up into the clouds. A light breeze ruffled my hair and I tucked a strand behind my ear as it flowed across my forehead. A beetle scuttled across a rock in front of the porch steps I was sitting on._

_"Mama! Mama!" I smiled widely and tore my gaze from the sky to the small body hurling itself towards me._

_"Hey pretty boy!" I laughed, reaching for him. I pressed my nose to his and held him closer. "You're very dirty! Did Daddy take you out exploring?"_

_The small boy nodded hugely, and waved his hands behind him, "Daddy! Daddy!"_

_I looked up from the small angel in my arms. An overwhelming sense of happiness descended upon me, making my eyes prickle with joyful tears as Paul emerged from the forest. He waved to us both before pulling something out of his back pocket. A camera. He fiddled with it for a moment, his brow furrowing, before he held it up to his eyes and called, "Smile you two!"_

_I grabbed our son and rested him up on my knee. He looked at me curiously, his eyes the exact shade of honey brown as his fathers. "Look at Daddy!" I exclaimed, pointing overenthusiastically at Paul._

_The small boy wiggled himself around to glance back at Paul for a moment, then beam a smile up at me. I scrunched my nose up at him, poking him in his chubby tummy. A little giggle met my ears._

_"Right there, sweetie!" I cooed at him, pointing to Paul again, "Look at Daddy!"_

_I tickled the side of his leg, making him squeal with joy, and pointed to Paul. The little boy's head snapped around, landing his eyes at the camera and his father. I lifted my head quickly, smiling brightly, not only for the camera, but because this was truly the happiest I had ever been._

_Paul took a quick step to the right, chuckling to himself, and aligned us in the center of the picture. The camera blocked his eyes, but underneath the edge, I could see his gleaming smile. I looked directly into the camera's lens__._

_Paul clicked the button, a flash of light blinding me-_

I was on my back, and my head throbbed. My eyes searched around wildly for any sign of what was happening.

"Madison!" I heard hurried footsteps and shut my eyes. I opened them a second later, and another flash of light burned my eyes. It was gone in a moment, only to be replaced by another.

"_Madison!" _The screeching of wheels met my ears next, along with rushed voices hollaring to one another. I didn't recognize any of them but my mothers, as she called my name yet again, "MADISON!"

I closed my eyes at the sharp, sudden pain behind my right eye. I opened them again a moment later, unable to stand the darkness. I looked up, and squinted against another flash of light-

Recognition clicked inside me, and memories of past events flooded my body. I searched the ceiling, knowing I was inside. Another flash of light, circular: the ceiling's light bulbs. I waited, knowing it was coming.

There! A second later, the light went away, only to be replaced a few seconds later, by another light bulb. A spotted, dirty ceiling met my glance in between the flashes.

I let my eyes close; the effort of keeping them open was too great.

"Come on, Michelle! Keep those eyes open! Stay with us!"

_Madison,_ I wanted to tell him, _my name is Madison._

And then, I thought of nothing as a sharp prick entered my skin, right in my arm. I just returned to my happy place- with Paul.

~~OO~~

_I was in a forest- that much I knew. It was very white, too white._

_"There you are!" I turned my head, wondering who had spoken. Nobody was there. I was met only with more trees. The leaves were glowing white, too. I wondered what exactly this forest was._

_I stood up, waiting for the familiar clench of muscle pain, because I had gotten up too quickly. None came._

_I walked to the tree closest to me, squinting at it. "Hello?" I asked it._

_The tree didn't answer. It only swayed its branches. A howl rang out from somewhere to my left; it sounded lonely._

_"There you are!"_

_I looked up, the only direction I had yet to check. Whoever had spoken was not there._

_I looked back at the tree._

_"Who's there?" I called out. I wasn't scared, I noted, just curious. I walked to where I had been before, and sat back down. A flower sprouted in front of my feet, and bloomed into a wondrous purple bud. It sprouted petals, and a moment later, the petals fell off. The flower retreated back into its hole._

_My mouth dropped open, as all around me, flowers followed the same pattern. They popped up in all different places, each in a different stage of development. They were all the same color of vibrant purple and stood out shockingly against the very white of the forest._

_Footsteps alerted me that I was not alone. "There you are!"_

_I looked up at a man I had never seen before. "Here I am." I said quietly._

_His handsome face crooked to the side, and he looked suddenly sad._

_"What's wrong?" I asked._

_"You're not the person I was looking for." The man explained._

_I blinked and looked around. I pointed to myself, "I'm the only one here."_

_The man took on an expression of boyishness, "We're playing a game. She's hiding."_

_"I hope you find her," I said kindly._

_The man took a step forward, and sank down to his knees in front of me. He was very tall, and his dark, long hair was braided down his back. The braid swung over his shoulder as he adjusted his position._

_"I'm confused," I admitted after a moment._

_"I'm not," The man replied. His light brown eyes looked into mine._

_"Where am I?" I asked._

_The man didn't answer. Instead, he reached behind his head, and fiddled with something out of sight. His hands emerged a second later, and he was holding a brightly colored feather, with a wooden charm attached to the end._

_He wordlessly handed it to me. I reached out, pausing to admire the pale of my skin against his tan, and took the token. I held it up close to my face, and studied the charm. It was a small wooden wolf, its head thrown back, and howling up into the sky. The detail on the small piece was amazing._

_"I need to find her," The man said seriously, and sprang up away from me. He rushed out of sight, disappearing between the trees._

_A woman appeared to my right, smiling down at me. I made a horrified sound in the back of my throat, as I stared at her exposed skin. A large scar was directly over her heart. It looked painful._

_The woman covered the skin with her hand, and blinked._

_"What happened?" I asked._

_She kneeled down, close to the spot the man had just occupied, and answered kindly, "personal sacrifice."_

_I blinked, the words triggering something in my memory. The thought disappeared a second later._

_"Madison." I looked up at her, crooking my head to the side. She glowed with the perfection the purple flowers offered this white world. "You need to go home."_

_I looked around again, confused. "I don't live here?"_

_The woman shook her head. "Not yet. It's not your time yet." Her words wrapped themselves around me, comforting me._

_"I have to go now?" I said stupidly. I didn't understand- I liked it here._

_"Yes," The woman nodded. She looked down at the wooden wolf I still held tightly in my hands._

_"Goodbye, Madison." She said, getting up. She walked away, looking back a second later. "I'll see you soon," she promised, before disappearing into the depths of the white forest._

_The last thing that met my ears was a wolf howl, signaling that it had finally found its mate._

~~OO~~

I opened my eyes and was met with, yet again, a blinding light. My head pounded angrily and I felt like I had been hit with a truck.

"Sweetie?" A tearful voice sounded to my left. I groaned out, and lolled my head in my mom's general direction.

I cracked open an eye and was enveloped in a shaky hug. My mom's skin was cold and clammy, something that always happened when she was stressed.

"What happened?" I whispered from her arms. A hot tear fell onto my cheek. She was crying.

My mom sniffled out a heartbroken answer, "I came in to check on you this morning, and you weren't moving." She whispered. Her voice broke as she cried, "You were so _cold."_

My heart picked up pace, beating in time with the throbbing behind my right eye. _Oh, god._

She released my upper body from her hug, and collapsed back into a chair by the bedside. Her shoulders shook with her whispered sobs, and all I could do was stare, horrified.

"I-I-carr-" My mother's sob cut her off, and she mopped at her eyes, and tried again, "I-I carried yo-you to the car and dr-drove over here as fa-fa-fast as possib-ble." She hunched over, distraught, and mumbled something I couldn't hear.

"Mom, I didn't hear the last part," I let her know. I was still stunned.

My mom's head snapped up, and she choked out, "The doctors weren't sure if you would wake up this time, baby."

I froze, unmoving on the bed, unable to do anything. My mother did the same. For an immeasurable amount of time, we just stared at each other. I felt the blood drain from my face and I felt petrified.

A nurse walked into the room, completely unaware of the drama she had just entered. My mother lurched to her feet, startling the nurse, who jumped.

"What did the tests say?" My mother demanded, rushing forward. "Dr. Hinds said he was running some. _What did they say_?"

The nurse looked taken aback, and glanced down at the charts she held. She was attempting to stutter out an answer under my mother's frightful stare when Dr. Hinds himself walked in, saving them both from my mother's impending yelling.

"Dr. Hinds!" My mother gasped out, rounding on him. The nurse fled the room. I couldn't blame her.

"Ms. Kline," He nodded his head in her direction, before bypassing her completely, and walking up to the side of the bed. "Madison, how's the headache on a scale of one to ten?" He asked calmly.

"A seven." I answered instantly. I winced as my voice echoed around my empty brain.

He opened a bedside drawer I hadn't noticed up until then, and pulled out an IV bag. "This has more pain killers in it," He explained, replacing the half full bag.

I mumbled out my thanks, and my mother descended for the second time.

"The tests?" She burst out, "what did they say?"

Dr. Hinds regarded her calmly, "Madison's disease was already spreading, Dianne. The tests show that recent over exertion pushed her body to its absolute limit." Dr. Hinds started at me now, although it was evident he was still speaking to my mother, "Her body compensated the only way it possibly could- it started to shut down."

I shrank under his stare and unfocused my eyes, so I wouldn't have to see his accusing face anymore. "Madison?" He addressed me, "You should know by now when to stop. You should know your body's limitations, and if you ignore them again, it will be much worse than just a light coma."

"A _coma?" _I blurted out. "I was in a coma?"

He nodded and I paled. "The next time I can almost guarantee you won't wake up."

My mother flinched at his words, a new wave of fresh tears leaking out of her eyes, which had dark circles underneath them.

~~OO~~

I sat in my room, several hours later, staring at one of the yellow stars I knew Paul had painted because it was slightly smudged in the corner. He had been too anxious to peel off the stencil before it was fully dried. My phone was next to me, the screen showing I had nine missed calls. They were all from Paul.

I held the phone up to my ear, and listened as his voice went from curious, to nervous, to worried, to a complete mess. By the end of the last message, he sounded more panicky than I had ever thought possible.

I was contemplating calling him back, but the decision was taken away from me when my phone buzzed for the tenth time.

I answered it on the second ring. "Hello?" My voice didn't sound normal. How could it? My mother's world was falling apart downstairs. Dr. Hinds had demanded I tell him what I was doing to overwork my body like that.

When I told him I had been with Paul and all I had literally done was run around and splash in the ocean, my mother had lost it. She had fisted her hair and just...fell into a chair. She didn't move until Dr. Hinds had almost refused to discharge me.

It was the first time my mother had ever, e_ver_ acted that way. I cringed, remembering her exact words, "_My daughter is not going to live the rest of her life in this goddamned hospital! You will discharge her, or I will PRESS CHARGES!"_

Dr. Hinds had rescinded immediately, admitting he had been wrong. It wasn't so much the screaming, but the _words_ my mom had said. I had finally succeeded in shattering her hope for me. Now, we both knew how truly close to death I was.

"Madison! _Hello?"_ I flinched at Paul's still panicky voice.

"Hi Paul." I said quietly.

"Where are you? Are you ok?" He demanded, "Why didn't you answer my other calls?"

"I'm fine," I said easily.

He sighed into the phone, his breathe making static between the lines, "Madison, I can tell your lying."

My mouth dropped open- not with amazement, but anger. "It's none of your business, Paul, ok?" I said harshly, "I just had a hard morning, alright?" I made my tone softer, trying to lessen the sting of my first sentence.

"If you're sure..." He trailed off. _Smart boy,_ I thought. I wasn't in the mood. "So, anyway," He continued, "do you want to see a movie tomorrow?"

I paused before answering, half of me wanting to jump at the chance to do something normal, half of me wanting to sit at home and cry on my mother's shoulder.

The second half won. "Sorry, Paul...I think I'm spending time with my mom tomorrow."

"Oh...well then do you and your mom want to join us at the Rez for dinner tomorrow?"

I almost dropped the phone, "What?"

"Sam and Emily are having..a great barbeque tomorrow night, and I'm inviting you." He repeated earnestly.

"Are you sure?" I asked, "I really don't want to trespass on you guys again."

"Nah, it'll be fine." He said easily.

I sighed into the phone, unsure of what to do. I really, really wanted to see Paul again, and this time he was giving me the option of including my mom, too...

I couldn't deny that it was slightly weird, but then again, I had never been normal from the beginning.

"Madison," Paul begged, "_Please _say yes. I need to see you again."

Which, I guess, is how I found myself nodding into the phone, whispering, "Ok."

As I hung up the phone, I wondered how long I could keep doing this. I wondered how long I could keep pretending everything was going to be ok. Because it wasn't going to be ok for me, and I'd be damned if I let myself drag Paul down with me.

~~OO~~

Paul's point of view

I hung up the phone, fucking ecstatic.

"Dude, what's up with you?" I ignored Embry, and turned sheepishly to Emily in the kitchen.

She cocked an eyebrow, and pointed the spatula directly at me, like a sword. "And what will I be serving at this 'great barbeque' may I ask?"

I bowed my head under her stare. But, as ashamed as I tried to pretend I was, my insides were leaping for goddamned joy.

All I could think about was seeing Madison. Madison, Madison, Madison.

Embry snorted from behind me and I whirled on him, "Shut up!"

He held up his hands in mock defeat, still sniggering, "You're so fucking whipped."

I growled dangerously.

"Stop!" Emily ordered, "Paul if I'm going to pull this off, you'll have to help cook." Embry sniggered again, and I growled for a second time, "And no growling!" Emily yelled, exasperated.

She rubbed her stomach lovingly, and I nodded, "I'll help."

As Emily rounded off ingredients I would have to go out and buy, my heart thumped louder and louder, each beat whispering out, _Madison, Madison, Madison._

_Madison._

* * *

><p><strong>did anyone catch that? the "white forest" bit? the woman is the third wife, and the man searching for her is taha aki. i know it was a bit weird, but poor madison was drugged beyond belief and her subconcious was desperately trying to tell her something. so, as always, tell me what you be thinkin. this was the first time i've written this way..soo,...i guess just don't flame me too badly.<strong>

**also! for anyone intrested, i've entered a contest called the just a kiss contest. i'm not begging for votes, but if you wanted to vote for me i wouldn't say no! the link is here - fanfiction . net (slash) ~ just a kiss contest (delete the spaces!) some of the entries are really good, so i would definetly recommend checking them out! mine's called "a pencil and a kick" for anyone intrested (:**

**THANKS FOR STICKING WITH MEE! oh! and i love you (:**


	17. I suck

please read this?

Hey everyone, I hope you're not too excited about this, seeing as it's not an actual chapter. It's time for complete honesty about why I haven't been around basically…for months; I feel like I owe it to you guys, so, here goes:

I have an eating disorder, and I was shipped out (against my will) to a recovery program for 3 and ½ weeks. I got back home a little while ago. Before I was shipped out, things got pretty bad. I was up and down, up and down, and finally I just fell down, down, down and couldn't get out of the depression. I didn't eat for a week and my mother discovered me on the floor in the bathroom, passed out. After a stay in the hospital, I came back home for a several days, and then my mother forced me into the recovery program. When I got back home (because our insurance ran out) I was taken out of school and…let's just say I'm still on a very, very short leash.

**In no way, shape, or form am I abandoning these stories**. **They mean too much to me****.**

I think my first order of business to just finish Lucas and Kayla. I'm so, so close to just having it done! I'm going to start working on chapters again. Three Months of Forever…oh Lordy, hah-hah… I'll be working on that one, too. You may find that my writing style has changed…I'm not so sure what it will come out as, but I'll work my hardest to try and keep it like how it was.

I'm not going to promise updates like…tomorrow or anything, but they WILL be coming, cross my heart. I have to find my passion for it again…I was so focused on my eating and exercising that everything else took a backseat.

Thanks so much for reading this, and keep on the lookout for a chapter or two! I'll be working my hardest to get back into the groove, ok?

-Val

P.S. Yes, yes,_ yes _I will update my stories, skylar! God I wish you had an actual account, I feel like you'd be hilarious!


	18. Shelby

This message is for anyone who was interested in Val's stories, or talked to her on this website.

My name is Shelby and I was one of Val's friends. Val had an eating disorder and because of complications she passed away on January 11th of this year. She was 18 years old and one of my best friends. I'm not going to go into any details about her death, so please don't ask.

Val liked writing- she used to tell me it helped her clear her thoughts and she showed me this website a few times. She joked around once or twice about how if she ever did die, it would be up to me to finish writing them.

I'm not going to do that. I'm going to leave everything the way it was. I originally decided not to even write this, but I figured she'd want these stories to have some kind of closure. I was her best friend since we were both six years old, and she was mine. I couldn't give her a lot of things she needed, but I can give her this.

I guess now you'll have to make up your own endings.

_Shelby


End file.
